Chapter Fifteen
Two months later…
Dalton
“Stop trying to carry shit.” I grabbed the case of water out of Toby’s arms with a frustrated huff. “Miss Lily would kick my ass if she saw you carrying that.”
“I’m not an invalid, Dal.” Toby tried to jog to the door to open it but had to stop after a few steps to catch his breath. “I can still help around here.”
I leaned over to kiss the side of his head. “I know you can, baby. But your only job right now is staying healthy and strong until that little guy is out of you.”
Toby curled both arms over his huge belly. “But he’s taking so long…”
“He’ll get here when he gets here.” Miss Lily rounded the corner and put her hand on her hip. “Until then, you need to stay off your feet and rest. No sense rushing him along if he’s not done baking yet.”
Toby rolled his eyes in my direction but turned to Miss Lily with a forced smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
Staying at the compound for the final weeks of Toby’s pregnancy had been tough on both of us. We’d just gotten used to the privacy and freedom of living together as a couple when Miss Lily insisted we stay closer to her. She was one of the few midwives with experience delivering babies from men. The C-section process was fairly similar to women, but with the reproductive organs in a slightly different configuration, most doctors didn’t feel comfortable performing them unless it was an emergency. Since we didn’t want to risk an emergency delivery, Toby and I moved to the compound two weeks ago and were more or less patiently waiting for the birth day to arrive.
Once I had Toby settled onto the sofa with the remote, a bottle of water, and a heating pad under his back, I snuck out to the shed to finish the bassinet I’d been working on. It wasn’t fancy, but the fallen white alder logs littering the property were too pretty to pass by. Besides, I needed to stay busy, or I’d drive myself and Toby crazy. It was bad enough waiting for our baby to arrive, but my worry for Toby’s health increased exponentially every the day. Mortality for men during childbirth was higher than I felt comfortable with. Almost 8% of all men died while delivering. Not because of poor health or bad medical care but because the level of pain involved was more than some men could handle. Even as shifters, we still had human limitations. And human men weren’t meant to endure the kind of pain that came with bearing children.
But Toby was strong. And more importantly, he was completely devoted to being around for our child, regardless of what he had to suffer in order to make it happen. So, instead of hovering over him, I spent my days building some furniture for our future cub. The bassinet was the final piece of the set. I’d saved it for last, knowing when it was finished, we’d be just days away from welcoming our little one into the world.
***
“Close your eyes,” I called out to Toby, carrying the bassinet through the front door.
“We’re in the kitchen.” Toby sounded like he was out of breath, causing a surge of panic to rush through me.
I set the bed on the ground then rushed into the kitchen, afraid of what I’d find. Toby was pounding a huge ball of dough onto a cutting board with Miss Lily watching over his shoulder.
“Everything okay?” I asked stupidly. Obviously, Toby was fine, but he rarely spent time in the kitchen, so it took me a minute to understand what I was looking at.
“Yes.” Toby didn’t unclench his jaw as he hissed out the word. “Peachy.”
Finally accepting that he truly was fine, I relaxed my tense muscles and let the corners of my mouth pull up. “You’re baking?”
“Don’t you tease this boy.” Miss Lily swatted my arm, giving me a stern look. “The baby has been particularly active today, so Daddy just needed someplace to channel his discomfort.”
“What did that wad of dough ever do to you?” I couldn’t help the full grin spreading across my face. Toby had been so sweet and docile since becoming pregnant. It was kinda fun to see this more aggressive side of him come out. “Let me know, so I never repeat its offense.”
“This.” Toby slammed the ball of dough onto the board. “Is.” He punched once, never taking his eyes off me. “All.” With both hands, he scooped it up again and stretched it as wide as his arms would go. “Your.” With another slam, the ball flattened against the board again, spreading into a large circle. “Fault.”
I covered his hands with mine, holding them in place. “I’m sorry, baby. I know this sucks, but it’s almost over.”
His eyes softened for a moment before his face scrunched up in pain.
“Right, Miss Lily? Are we almost there?”
She glanced at us from over the refrigerator door then did a double take.
“Toby, are you feeling any worse?”
“Obviously.” Toby was surlier than usual, and his usual pink cheeks were oddly pale.
Her frown grew as she held his wrist between her small fingers. Her skilled hands felt along the diameter of Toby’s stomach, poking and prodding until Toby yelped in pain. “Yes, I think we’re there. I’d hoped to give it a few more days, but I don’t think we should wait any longer.”
“Thank fuck!” Toby breathed out a desperate cry as both of his hands turned up and clenched mine, almost breaking the small bones under his iron grip. “Let’s get it out.”
Swooping my mate into my arms, I tried not to absorb any of the fear I saw in Miss Lily’s eyes as I carried him down into the makeshift operating room in her basement. I placed him gingerly on the hospital bed in the center of the room while Miss Lily made a phone call while turning on lamps and machines throughout the space.
“Aaron Jennings is on his way to administer anesthesia. It won’t block all the pain, but it’s the best we can offer.” Miss Lily set a tray full of scalpels on the table attached to Toby’s bed, and the reality of the moment set in.
My mate was about to give birth to our child.
“You’re doing great, baby.” I held Toby’s fist against my heart, forcing his attention on me instead of on the sharp tools being readied to slice him open. “You’ve got this.”
He shook his head as tears ran down both sides of his cheeks. “I don’t know if I do. What if I can’t handle it?”
“You can.” I squeezed his hand tighter then leaned over to kiss away his tears. “You’re the strongest man I know. The man I love more than anything else in this world and the only person I’d trust to raise my cub. You will do this, baby. And you’re gonna be the best father any kid could ever have. I promise.”
Aaron ran down into the basement with a black case in one hand and his wife Marcy trailing behind him. “I’ve got the good stuff. Now, we can get this party started.”
***
Time moved in slow motion while I watched my mate get split open from one hip to the other and our baby girl get pulled out of him. Miss Lily moved with precision and speed as she stitched up everything that had been opened, but I didn’t pay much attention to her. My entire focus was on the wiggling baby lying across Toby’s chest.
“Is she okay?” Toby looked between me and Marcy with tears flowing from his eyes again. “Why isn’t she crying?”
Marcy swept a finger inside my daughter’s mouth and shined a light in her eyes. “She’s perfect. She just doesn’t have anything to cry about yet.”
And as if the challenge had been accepted, the tiny child opened her mouth and let out a wail, startling us all. I collapsed forward at the beautiful sound, burying my face in the crook of Toby’s neck as I teared up as well. “You did it, baby. She’s healthy and beautiful, just like you.”
Toby nodded against me but didn’t speak. No words were necessary. The love radiating off his sweaty and battered body spoke volumes as he gently rocked our sweet baby girl against his chest.
It seemed like only seconds had passed before Miss Lily was handing me a cleaned up and completely swaddled bundle of pink. “Your daughter is ready for her name.”
“Uh, I don’t think we have one yet.” My eyes grew wide as I looked at Toby. “Do we?”
He smiled shyly, trying to keep his eyes open despite the exhaustion clearly settling over him. “I like the name Stella.”
Our daughter’s eyes opened at that moment, as if confirming she liked it too. “Stella it is.”