Tessa

I'm making myself a tuna sandwich with one slice of bread for elevenses. I now have so little room for my stomach that I eat tiny meals several times a day to avoid horrible indigestion/heartburn.  I’ve already showered, so I’ll start another round of visualizing my cervix opening as soon as I’ve eaten. Although it won’t work. I can’t concentrate long enough to get anything going, not that it would necessarily work anyway.

Arthur left for his workout at 7:30 this morning, and he still hasn’t come back yet, which is odd for a Saturday. Although, I suppose it’s not that odd, since we are basically avoiding each other at the moment. We still haven't made up from our fight last week, which is a very bad sign, I'd say. I know you're never supposed to go to bed angry, but every time I think about having a conversation with him, I realize there's no point in bringing it up until I can calm down.

But the longer this goes on, the harder it is for either of us to approach the subject. We’re exceedingly cordial to each other when we find ourselves in the same room, but there is very little eye contact and absolutely no affection coming from either of us, even though I'd very much like to give him a big hug. Well, sort of; I'm still pretty pissed about how he treated my parents and the fact that the two attempts we've made to discuss my parents have failed, ending with him insisting it's for the best to have them gone. For my sake. Hah! Not bloody likely.

The door opens, and I hear him come in. Dexter gets up to greet him, but I stay in the kitchen.

“Hello, Dexter. Have you been keeping Tessa company whilst I was out?” Pause. “Good boy.”

Arthur comes around the corner with Dexter at his heels. He stops when he sees me and gives me a sort of sad smile that breaks my heart a little.

“Hi,” I say with a slight wave. “I’m making tuna for elevenses. Don’t suppose you want some?”

He shakes his head. “I’m all right, thanks.”

I sigh, knowing he doesn’t want anything from me. “Okay. Where’ve you been?"

"I was out getting you something you need."

"Is that so?" Here we go again. “What if you ask me what I need instead of assuming?”

He walks over to me and stands directly in front of me. Staring down at me, he says, “Let me give it a try and see if I can figure it out for myself. You need me to listen to you. You need me to stop assuming I know what you need, and more than that, you need me to know that you know what you need better than anyone else.”

“That’s a pretty good start, actually.”

“And you need your parents nearby to help you through the next several scary weeks."

I narrow my eyes, feeling a little confused. “Did you go get my parents?"

"I went to Bram’s and begged their forgiveness and asked them to move back here—not just until the house is ready, but until we feel like we can handle things on our own.”

“What did they say?”

“Your father needed some convincing, a lot of groveling, and a steadfast promise that I’ll always look after his little girl.”

“And my mum?”

“Basically started packing the moment I got there,” he says with a little grin.

“Of course she did.”

He holds out his hands to me, and I place mine on his, feeling an enormous weight lifting off my chest. "What about Mr. Whiskers?"

"He's not coming. Apparently, they've sent him to a cat rehab expert. She’s going to keep him for a few months and see if she can cure him of his destructive ways."

“So, are they back already?”

“Tomorrow. They’re staying at Lars and Nina’s tonight to mind the kids whilst they’re at a Christmas party.”

“Okay, well, good. I guess. I mean, I know they’ve been a real pain in the arse, especially for you and the staff, but I just need my parents right now, you know?”

“I don’t really know, Tess,” I say in a gentle voice. “My parents weren’t exactly the type you could rely on.”

“I wish you could’ve had what I had when you were growing up.”

Arthur shrugs. “Don’t feel sorry for me. It all turned out in the end because I found you.”

“I love you so much, it hurts.” I reach up and kiss him, then we press our foreheads together. “This past week has been absolutely awful. I never want to fight like this again,” I say.

"Me neither. Let's promise each other that no matter what, we’ll just keep talking until we sort out whatever is wrong, even if we’re up all night."

"Deal." Arthur pulls me in for a big hug. He can barely reach around to my sides now, but he makes it work anyway. “I love you, Tessa Langdon.”

A sharp kick comes from my tummy, and we both laugh a little.

“Was that a fluke or—”

Another kick has Arthur grinning and pulling back. He lowers his head, puts his hands on my belly and says, “Hello, in there. Come out soon, little babies, so we can meet you.”

A long rippling across my belly is his answer. He looks up at me and grins. “I think they know me now.”

“I think so, too. They’re going to love you, you know.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you won me over, and I don’t like anyone.”

***

THE NEXT MORNING, I wake with a sense of urgency (and not just because there is a tiny human bouncing away on my bladder). This is different. It’s the strangest feeling—like I don’t have enough time to get things done. After I go pee, I check the clock and see it’s not quite five in the morning. I crawl back into bed, where it’s warm and cozy, hoping for sleep to come, but every time I close my eyes, they spring back open and I glance around the room.

What is wrong with me? I mean, seriously. I sigh and stare at Arthur, tempted to wake him from his long winter’s nap.

It’s Christmas Eve. That’s why I’m awake. I love Christmas normally, but this year I’m even more excited to open the enormous gift Arthur bought me. It’s been sitting under the tree for days now, and I have no clue what it could be. I tried shaking it a little, but it was so heavy I couldn’t even budge it. And I know you’re supposed to be more thrilled to give than receive, but honestly, it’s huge.

Hmm...I wonder if it’s too early to wake Arthur and suggest we exchange gifts? Maybe, yes.

It’s no use. I can’t sleep. Oh, I know, I can finish wrapping presents for my nieces and nephews. I get up, pull on my bathrobe, and wander to the living room. Glancing out the window, I see that in the time since we've fallen asleep, the entire world seems to have been covered with snow. I walk over to take a look, but as soon as I reach the window, I feel a dull ache that starts in my back and spreads across to my abdomen.

Well, that certainly doesn't feel nice. I freeze and stand perfectly still, hoping it will go away, and after a few seconds, it does.

One of the babies kicks, and I put my hand on the spot, wondering if he or she can feel that. "Can you feel that, too? What does that feel like for you?" God, I hope it's not feeling like they're getting squished in there. Although I can't imagine they have much room to begin with...

"Dr. Dropp said I was likely to get Braxton Hicks contractions in the next little while, so that's probably what this is. So, if either of you are thinking you're going to get out of there today, I hate to burst your bubble, but I highly doubt it."

By the time I've wrapped three presents, I realize these dull aches may be actual contractions. They are getting a little bit deeper each time, and if I’m not mistaken, are coming on fairly regularly. On the next one, I feel a small rush of water you-know-where.

Well, that was strange. Not at all like when a woman's water breaks on the telly and there's a huge puddle. This was more like a very small bit. Now I'm glad I didn't wake Arthur up, because that was rather embarrassing. I stand and get some cleaning products out from under the kitchen sink and start to clean the chair, only just as I'm finishing, another contraction starts—at this point, I think I'll start calling them contractions, that seems about right—and more water comes out. I hurry to the bedroom, open the door, and rummage around through my drawers to find fresh clothes.

Arthur stirs and says, "Everything okay?"

"Fine, yes. I was just wrapping some presents. I couldn't sleep,” I say. “Oh, and I'm pretty sure my waters have broke."

Arthur rolls over, then says, "Okay. Let me know if you need any help with the presents."

I walk toward the bathroom with my bundle full of clothes, then I hear the exact moment Arthur's sleepy brain has finished processing what's happening. "Good God, did you say your waters have broke?"

"Yes, I think so."

He scrambles to get out of bed, hurrying over to me in his underwear. "Excellent. Brilliant. Okay, let's get you to the hospital, then."

"There's no rush. I'd like to take a shower first and finish wrapping those presents, actually."

Even though it's still dark in the room, I can tell he's giving me a very bewildered look. "Did you just say you want to finish wrapping presents?"

"Yes. I mean, as far as I can tell, these contractions are still quite far apart, and after the babies are born, we’re really not going to have time to finish this."

"You do realize we have a rather large staff that could manage the gift wrapping on our behalf? Including a royal gift wrapper? She does a lovely job."

"Oh yes, I know she does. But I decided to do it myself. Personal touch, and all that,” I say over my shoulder as I make my way to the bathroom and close the door.

When I’m finished showering, Arthur is dressed and on the phone.

"What do you mean closed?" Pause. He gives me a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, then turns and walks farther down the hall, presumably so I can't hear his conversation. I follow him and listen (obviously).

"Well, tell them to open the bloody roads because we need to get to Valcourt Memorial immediately." After another long pause, Arthur says, “Yes. That’ll be fine. Thank him for me."

He hangs up the phone and turns to me. "Bit of a snag. The roads are closed, but not to worry. The police will be sending an escort to get us to the hospital. Apparently, they have some Bohemeth SUV that can cut through the snow like a hot knife through ice cream."

"Sounds good,” I say, reaching up to give him a kiss. “We should be able to wrap these presents before they get here then, yes?"

“Okkaaayyy..." he says, giving me the ‘I married a crazy person’ look.

We set to work for a few minutes, and then another contraction hits me. This one is much stronger, and I wince, holding my breath until it passes.

"Jesus. That looked rather painful."

"Yes. Very unpleasant, I must say. If that's what this is going to be like, I'm even more determined than ever to get that whole twilight sleep thing going." I give him a reassuring look, but he doesn't smile back.

Glancing down at the table, I point to the board game he’s wrapping. "That one is for Knox. The gift tags are right over here." I pluck one off the table and pass it to Arthur, then set back to work.

"You're shockingly calm right now."

"Well, I can't guarantee I'll stay this way, of course, but so far I feel just fine. I have a very good feeling about this whole thing."

***

HALF AN HOUR LATER, all the presents are wrapped and we’re waiting in the Grande Hall with Ollie and Xavier. A parade of police vehicles pulls up in front of the palace, red and blue lights circling, but no sirens.

"Oh, bugger." I sigh, shaking my head.

"Another contraction?" Arthur asks, placing his hand on my back to rub it for me.

"No. I just didn't want such a big fuss about this whole thing. I was hoping we could just slip into the hospital unnoticed, but that's going to be virtually impossible with a lineup of police vehicles."

"I can't believe you're worried about that right now."

"What should I be worried about?"

"How about getting to the hospital?"

Shrugging, I say, "Good point."

Turns out, police escorts are kind of fun. Although we have to drive extremely slowly so we don't go off the road, I have to admit there's a bit of excitement to this. I feel like I’m some criminal mastermind being moved to a maximum security prison (where I will break out in under a day and get back to...criminal stuff).

“Oh good, they’re waiting for us,” Arthur says as we pull up in front of the hospital.

Glancing out the window, I see what looks like the entire staff of the maternity ward waiting at the front doors for us. "Oh, see? This is too much of a fuss. This isn't what I wanted."

"Yes, well we'll just have to put up with it."

We’re greeted by Dr. Patell, who looks rather haggard and tired.

“Your Highness, Your Highness." He nods to each of us.

"Dr. Patell, how lovely to see you." I say, holding my hand out, feeling very much like the regal young woman for a change of pace. Apparently, In Labour Princess Tessa is actually quite calm and fabulous. Who would’ve thought?

"I'm afraid Dr. Dropp isn't going to be able to make it on account of the roads."

"Oh. I'm sure it's fine, we can just send the police for her," Arthur says, then quickly follows that up with, "not that you wouldn't do a fantastic job, I'm sure."

The chief of police, who drove with us, shakes his head. "We’re not going to be able to do that right now, Your Highness. We have to get the rest of the squad cars back to their positions at the various roadblocks. But if someone gets me her address, we may be able to pick her up within the next few hours.”

"It's fine, really," I say, smiling serenely at the police chief, then at Dr. Patell. "We’re in good hands as it is.”

Arthur takes a breath, and I know he's about to protest, so I squeeze his hand and shake my head a little bit. "It's fine, darling."

Dr. Patell smiles at Arthur. "Don't worry, I've been brushing up on my hand-eye coordination, and I’m not drunk."

“Brilliant. Let’s get on with it, shall we?” Arthur says, his face turning a little red.

***

WELL, IT'S BEEN SIX hours since I had my first contraction, and I have to say, serene, calm In Early Labour Tessa has now been replaced by Extremely Grumpy, Don't Fucking Talk to Me, This Hurts Like a Mother Fucker Tessa. The crappy part is Dr. Patell just checked, and I'm only 5 cm dilated. He's left to go have a nap, leaving instructions with the nurse to wake him should things progress quickly. Although it doesn't sound like that’s likely, because the last thing he said before he walked out was, “See you in a few hours."

At least the nurse who’s been assigned to me is both kind and competent. Her name is Nancy, and she’s kind and yet has a take-charge aura that I find quite comforting. She’ll get us through this.

I am sweaty, tired, and way too hot, even though I'm only wearing this stupid hospital gown. I've already taken four showers, and we've tried everything from me sitting on the exercise ball to Arthur rubbing my back during contractions to that ridiculous breathing to visualizing my happy place, which to be quite honest, is anywhere but here—a rather vague and ineffective happy place, to be honest.

Two hours later, Dr. Patell returns, looking still exhausted, but now his hair is sticking out in the back, proof that he just napped. "How are we doing?"

"We are getting a little sick of this labour business, actually,” I say haughtily.

“Ah, I see.” Dr. Patell nods.

I take a deep breath and try to return to Serene Princess Tessa. “I’m wondering if you've seen The Crown?"

"Nobody does the twilight sleep anymore. It was outlawed over forty years ago all over Europe."

He gestures for me to lay down on the bed for another check. Once I’m settled on it, I stare up at the ceiling, convincing my knees to fall apart from each other. After a few moments, they do what they're told and I wait, expecting to hear that it's almost time, but instead Dr. Patell says, "That's not what I was hoping for."

"What does that mean?" Arthur asks, making a move from where he stands at my side toward the end of the bed, then quickly changing his mind and backing away from the business end of his pregnant wife.

“You’re still at 5 cm. I think we should hook up the monitors to see how everybody's doing inside here." Rolling his stool away, he stands and takes off the plastic gloves, then tosses them in the bin.

Nurse Nancy nods and opens the cupboard, then pulls out a cart of electronic equipment. Arthur helps me sit up so she can wrap two straps over my belly. Once the machines are turned on, it takes another few minutes for her to find the heart rates of each of the babies. Dr. Patell hooks up an oxygen monitor to my finger and a band around my arm.

Then we wait.

Another contraction comes on, and the beeping sound gets louder and more insistent.

"Why is it beeping like that?" Arthur asks.

"Sometimes, when things aren't progressing and the contractions are getting closer together and more intense, it's possible for the babies to experience a little distress."

"Are they?" I ask, propping myself up on my elbows, as if that's going to help anything at all.

"It looks like that wasn't too fun for Baby A."

"What does that mean?" Arthur says.

"It means we watch closely. For now, they’re fine. You see, the baby's blood pressure went back to normal now that the contraction has stopped. No need to worry though because if it continues to go up like that, we’re all set to go in right away."

"Define ‘go in’," Arthur says with a distinct edge in his voice.

“Emergency C-section."

Dr. Patell is paged over the intercom, and he starts for the door. "The mum in room six is ready to push. I’ll leave you in Nurse Smith’s capable hands. Try not to worry."

As soon as he’s gone, Arthur says, “I'm going to see if I can get Dr. Dropp here right away." Arthur shakes his head, looking more worried than I’ve ever seen him, muttering, "I don't like this. I don't like this at all."

"Okay," I say, feeling tears prick my eyes as I watch him hurry out of the room.

I lie back and close my eyes, trying to calm myself down and get my emotions under control.

Nurse Smith pats my arm. "Good idea. See if you can get some rest for a few minutes. And don't worry, love, you're in good hands with Dr. Patell. He knows what he's doing."

“Thank you," I whisper.