Nick did everything short of vaulting over that table.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Well, I’m pretty sure I’m in labor, so—shiitttttt,” she said, sucking in a long breath through her nose. “Sonofabitch.”
“No pretty sure about it, girl, you’ve jumped five steps ahead,” Allie said, turning her attention to Captain Ron. “We need to get this thing turned around and back to the launch.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’m on it,” he said, nearly jumping to the door.
“Does this table move?” Leo said, trying to manhandle it out of the way.
“I don’t think so,” Thatcher said. “I think it’s bolted.”
“I don’t want to lie down, anyway,” Lanie said, blowing out little breaths. “I’ll never get back up. I want to walk.”
The guys spread backwards for her like she was the queen and about to blow an alien out of her hoohah. Only Nick appeared to have his head in the game.
“Who do I need to call, babe?” he asked. “Where’s the list?”
“In the go-bag,” Lanie said, pushing to her feet as we held her arms. “In the car.” She pointed to the entryway door. “I need to walk.”
“You can’t walk out there,” I said. “You’ll fall overboard!”
“I’m pregnant, not broken,” Lanie huffed.
“You’re lopsided and off-center,” Carmen said. “Don’t risk it. Come on, we’ll just walk around the room.”
“Call the—” Lanie began.
“Hospital,” Nick finished for her, tapping on his phone. “I’m looking it up now. Where’s your phone? I’m calling Dr. Grace, too.”
Lanie pointed at him. “That’s why I married you,” she said, starting her first lap, one arm around Carmen. “Both times. Did y’all hear him say him?”
“What?” I asked.
“Bailey,” she said breathily. “He said tell him all about her.”
“You think that’s a sign?” I asked.
“Good as any,” Lanie said, pausing in her steps to grimace and hold her belly.
“Just a few minutes,” Carmen said, “and we’ll be back at the park. So let’s walk that baby loose and get you to the hospital.”
“Walk it loose,” Lanie echoed, waddling next to her friend.
Captain Ron appeared back in the doorway. “We have a problem,” he said.
“That’s not what I want to hear,” Nick said, whirling around.
“I know,” Captain Ron said, looking panicked. “But something’s wrong with the switch or the electrical system or—I don’t know. The engine isn’t turning over. I’ve never had this happen. Ever.”
“We have a person trying to make its way out of my wife,” Nick said. “We can’t have this kind of problem right now.”
“I’m doing all I can,” Captain Ron said. “I tried calling emergency services but there’s no signal, and they aren’t answering the radio—”
A gut-wrenching wail like an animal in pain filled the room, stopping all of us mid-thought. Lanie gripped Carmen’s arm with one hand and the wall railing with the other, sliding down the wall with glazed eyes.
“No walking,” she breathed, gasping for another breath. “It’s—it’s coming.”
“That quick?” Thatcher said, backing out of the way as Nick juggled his phone, hers, and dropped to his knees next to her.
“She was probably in labor for hours and dismissed it,” Allie said, rushing to guide Lanie down. Thatcher reached for her wrist and checked her pulse. “What?” Allie asked.
He shook his head. “Probably nothing,” he said. “Her eyes got really bloodshot and her heart rate is crazy, but this went from zero to a hundred so fast, so—”
“I’m right here,” Lanie grunted, wild-eyed. “Let’s not talk about me like—oh fuck a duck!” Spreading her legs like the baby could come through her leggings, and leaning forward, she let out a scream. “It’s now! It’s now!”
“Why isn’t there service?” Nick yelled at the phone. “We’re five damn minutes from the park.” He grabbed her hand and dropped the phone. “I’m right here, love. Just breathe—”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Lanie screamed. She let go of his hand and yanked him down by the collar of his shirt. “Don’t tell me to breathe. What’s wrong with people? Why does anyone ever think this is a good idea? Who came up with this plan?”
Her words fell away as her mouth contorted in pain and another god-awful gritty cry ripped from her throat. I dropped to my knees and rubbed her calves, felt useless. And torn. Part of me was horrified at the pain she was going through, and yet a quieter part inside cried with envy.
“Is this normal to go so fast?” I asked Allie.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Angel was fairly fast, too, but it’s hard to remember it clearly when you’re in agony like that.”
“Thirty minutes,” Bash said, hitting his knees. “And barely that.”
“How do you remember that from eighteen years ago?” she asked.
“Kind of made an impression,” he said. “Lanie? We might have to do this here, my friend.”
“I can’t have—a baby on a—dead man’s boat,” she huffed. “There’s no—anything. No monitors, no nurses.”
“Listen to me,” Bash said, leaning over and brushing sweaty hair from her face. “I don’t think this kid cares.” Lanie closed her eyes and whimpered and Bash cupped her chin. “I’ve done this before, though, so you’ve got me. You’ve got all of us.”
“I trained to be a paramedic once upon a time, too,” Thatcher said squatting on the other side of her. “I never delivered a baby, but you’ve got Bash. Between all of us, you’ve got a great team here.” He gave her his hand to squeeze, and monitored her pulse with his other hand. “We’ll do this together.”
“Lanie, we have to take your pants off, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” Bash said, shrugging off a windbreaker. “Nick, come do that so she doesn’t kick me. We’ll put this over her.”
“I won’t kick you,” Lanie said between breaths. “I’ll get to say the mayor—oh God, the mayor’s gonna—”
The scream hurt my insides just to watch. Her skin was red and slick with sweat and tears, her eyes glassy and crazed with pain. And yet, I couldn’t imagine any process more amazing. More beautiful.
“What can we do?” I asked. We all stared at each other stupidly for a few seconds, and then being a grown-up actually kicked in. “Towels!” I yelled. “Captain Ron, we need clean sheets and towels. Washrags if you have them. Some pillows?”
He bolted through the door, looking grateful to be useful.
“Water?” I continued, running to a bucket of water bottles and scooping them up. “Micah, go find a bathroom and see if they have alcohol. And anything else?”
“On it!” she said, running.
“The cord,” Bash said, looking at Allie with narrowed eyes like all the answers were in her face. “Somebody see if you can find some scissors or a really sharp knife. And a binder clip or a chip clip or something.”
“A chip clip?” Allie said.
“I clamped your cord with a chip clip from the kitchen.”
Her eyebrows raised. “I never knew that. Ironically, Angel refuses to use them and lets all the chips go stale.”
“Do you want to put her on the bed?” Captain Ron asked as he jogged back in with an armload of expensive-looking linens that would likely never be used again.
“She won’t make it to the bed,” Thatcher said, looking between her legs. “Jesus, this kid’s on its way.” He gave Nick a nod. “If you didn’t see this with your daughter, you need to see it now.”
“Yes, please, make my husband never want to go near it again,” Lanie breathed.
“That could never happen,” Nick said, leaning in and then backing out a bit. “Holy shit.”
“I’m gonna kick all of you!” Lanie cried. “Seriously?”
Bash laughed, and patted her knee. “There’s the Lanie we know and love.”
Pillows were stuffed behind Lanie’s back, and towels all around her.
Thatcher squeezed her hand, and nodded to Bash. “Okay, Mama, get ready to push.”
The seconds to follow were a blur of sweat, tears, blood, shrieking swear words, and slimy baby, as Bash guided it out, Thatcher talked her through, and Nick went to hold Lanie and help her push. There wasn’t much required. It was surreal. I’d never experience it for myself, but for one moment I was part of the miracle as a tiny human slid right into Bash’s hands.
Everyone was crying as a beautiful baby boy filled his lungs with air and belted out his first cry. Micah hugged an emotional Leo as he witnessed the birth of his nephew. Lanie laughed through her tears as Bash laid the baby on her chest and both she and Nick kissed their brand-new son.
A horn sounded nearby, and Sully looked out the window.
“The wedding boat’s announcing their passing,” he said, running for the door. “I’ll stop them!”
“Oh my God,” she sobbed, as Allie gentle cleaned the infant’s face with a wet towel. “He’s so beautiful.”
“What’s his name?” Leo asked, his voice choked.
Lanie looked up at Nick and he pushed wet hair from her eyes.
“What about Bailey?” he asked.
She laughed and closed her eyes. “That’s perfect.”
I heard Sully calling out to someone, and I turned to look. It was Bart. Out on the glittery white deck, trying to hear what Sully was yelling over their music.
Awesome. Of course it would be Bart, stealing my love of the moment.
“Lanie?” Nick’s voice was saying over the sound of the infant crying. “Lanie!”
The tone jerked me back, alarm ricocheting through my system. My eyes darted from the baby in Lanie’s arms to Nick’s white pallor, to Lanie’s closed eyes. She was asleep. But—
“Lanie!” Nick yelled again, adjusting himself out from under where she lay against him, taking her head in his hands. “She’s not breathing, Thatcher!”
“Take your son,” Thatcher said, his tone short and sharp.
Nick scooped baby Bailey up in his arms, and moved aside, still calling her name as Thatcher lifted her eyelids and felt for her pulse.
“Lanie!” he said sharply. “Shit, I don’t feel anything.”
“No!” Carmen cried. “Lanie!”
Everything that had been so full of love just seconds earlier was now blanketed in horror. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t—
“Bash, clamp and cut that cord,” Thatcher said, removing the pillows and laying Lanie flat. “Now.”
He started compressions as Bash took care of separating the baby from his mother with shaking hands and two binder clips.
Sully ran back into the room. “They’re pulling up next to us. Dartwell’s a doctor—” He stopped short at the new scene in front of him. “What’s going on?”
“Get him in here!” Thatcher yelled, pumping her chest. “Lanie stopped breathing!”
“Hold him,” Nick cried, shoving the baby into my arms before I could respond.
He ran outside with Sully, yelling at Mr. Dartwell, his voice cracking as he tried to form the words. To the older man’s credit, he acted immediately, yanking off his jacket and diving into the water. Within seconds, he was being hauled onto The Diamond. But all I could see was the crying baby in my arms, tiny and helpless and needing his mother. Nothing in my entire life had felt as important as this little boy did right now.
“Lanie, you can’t leave us,” Nick pleaded, dropping back to her side and pressing his head to hers. “You don’t get to leave our life, damn it. None of this works without you.”
I pivoted in place, tears streaming down my face as I watched Thatcher compress Lanie’s chest and Nick beg her to fight. Mr. Dartwell checked her for bleeding, and took over compressions, as Thatcher felt for a pulse and Bash sat back on the floor, his still-bloodied hands in his hair, looking ready to lose it.
I looked back down at the tiniest McKane, face scrunched up in anger and shock at the noise and chaos of the new world he was in. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. She couldn’t be given this blessing and then be taken away from him.
“Bailey,” I whispered, my breaths hitching. “He knew you were a boy. You’re connected.” I shut my eyes tight and gave all the focus I had. “Mr. Bailey, if ever there was a time to touch someone.”
Running over to her, I laid the baby against Lanie’s neck. It was crazy. It was a long shot. It was all I had.
“What are you doing?” Nick asked, his words broken.
“Shhh,” I said. I stared down at them, her face relaxed and at peace next to his crying one, both of them jostling with the compressions. “Please,” I whispered. “Please.” I closed my eyes. Please.
Carmen’s gasp made my eyes shoot open.
Lanie was stirring, her face nestling against her son’s body.
“I’ve got a thready pulse!” Thatcher exclaimed. “Getting stronger.”
“Lanie?” Nick cried, his hands on his son and in her hair. “Baby, can you hear me?”
“You’re three inches away,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering open. “I’m not deaf.”
“Oh my God,” he breathed, pulling both of them into his arms.
Thatcher stood and walked away a few steps, taking deep breaths as everyone hugged and cried in relief. Dartwell assured an in-shock Bash that it was a blood pressure spike and possibly passing of a blood clot that caused Lanie’s heart to stop, and nothing he had done. Arrangements were made to bring the two boats together to move everyone over and get Lanie and the baby transported to the hospital. Life was moving again, and everyone appeared to be okay.
I couldn’t quit shaking. Watching the new family struggle to stay in existence, and that sweet innocent little human just needing his people—it hit me to my core. And Bailey. Both Baileys. I couldn’t even explain that. I hadn’t even known how to ask for it, but something—or someone—had known my mind without me voicing it.
Thatcher looked like he’d been hit with a wrecking ball. He engaged with everyone, and Nick hugged him at least 750 times, but it was all for show. I could tell. Something was stabbing at him, and I understood that, because being able to look at him and know he was bothered was stabbing at me, too. I shouldn’t know that. I shouldn’t care to know that.
Lanie was carried across by Nick and Leo, and we all followed, me tailing behind as the caboose as we trooped onto the glittery love boat. I offered to carry Bailey, suddenly head over heels in love with the look and the smell and the sheer existence of him.
Standing under the giant heart photo of Bart and Dixie, ironically, were Bart and Dixie. Not looking nearly as happy as advertised.
That felt par for the course, as we had a brand spanking new baby boy in our possession, and none of us were as happy as advertised, either. Lanie had almost died. Died. Doing something as simple as having this baby. In this day and age, that shouldn’t come with a death warning.
If Bash hadn’t dived between her legs and Thatcher hadn’t jumped on her chest…
One day, that might be a funny joke to tell around the table at Rojo’s. Right now, it was too close. I felt wrung out, and that was just me. I couldn’t imagine what they were feeling.
“Thank you,” I said, passing Mrs. Dartwell as she stepped out onto the main deck, followed by Katrina Bowman. “Thank you for stopping. I know it interrupted your—thing.”
The recognition in her eyes registered. “Gabi,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, snuggling Bailey closer to me and continuing to follow behind Micah and Leo, wherever it was we were going. “Just—thank you.”
“What happened to Lanie that everything had to cease and go running to save her?” Katrina asked.
I gaped at her and held up the very evident infant. “Well, she had a baby on a boat and then stopped breathing, but hey, sorry for your inconvenience.”
“Is she okay?” Mrs. Dartwell asked, laying a hand on my arm.
“I think so now,” I said. “According to your husband.”
Kat looked sufficiently embarrassed, so I felt that my work was done enough to move on.
“Gabi,” said another voice behind me. One that made me groan. “Gabs.”
I turned as he pushed past some curious party guests.
“Go away, Bart,” I said.
“Wait,” he said, his eyes dropping to the infant in my arms, stopping him short. “Wow,” he breathed.
I looked down, and there for one frozen second, I saw what he saw. Our dream. Once upon a time, anyway.
I blinked quickly and looked back up at him, then turned to keep walking.
“I have to get him to his parents,” I said.
“Gabs, I’m sorry,” he said.
“Okay,” I said, not stopping.
Micah circled back and scooped the baby from my arms so she could put him in Lanie’s, and I instantly felt the void. I understood it then. What Mr. Bailey had told me. Don’t give up on what you want.
I’d never believed that could be enough for me, but right there, right then, I knew without question that it would be. Bart and I had never been able to afford the option, but—oh my God.
I gasped aloud, and Thatcher was suddenly in front of me, turning around.
I had money. We all had money. A shit ton of it.
“Gabi, please,” Bart said behind me.
“What’s wrong?” Thatcher asked.
I shook my head, my eyes filling with unexpected tears as I looked up at him. At his eyes still reeling from shock, and the exhaustion mixed with something else that was emanating off of him. A buzz. A high. Something like satisfaction. Bart’s voice was yapping behind me like a pestering dog, but Thatcher’s presence was overwhelming.
“We have—we can do whatever we want,” I said softly.
The glaze in his eyes that had been there all morning lifted a bit, and my stomach flipped over at the glimpse of reality. Of feelings.
Shit.
“Meaning?” he said.
Detour! Detour! The way he looked at me made my knees go weak. I grabbed the railing so that I didn’t go flopping over the edge like a wounded seal.
“Meaning what you just did back there, Thatcher,” I said. “That’s who you are. It’s what you do. You’re meant to help people. You should go back to paramedic school, you have the means now to—”
“Gabi, I need to talk to you,” Bart said, his tone rising.
“Whatever,” Thatcher said, waving a hand and turning to join the rest. He glanced over my head to Bart, and I saw the walls go back up.
You wake up every day and let him do it again.
“Thatcher—” I said, reaching out for his arm.
“Gabi,” Bart repeated for the five hundredth time.
I spun around. “What?”
Hands I’d recognize the feel of in my sleep gripped my shoulders, and a face I’d once pledged a lifetime to pleaded with me.
“It’s not too late,” he said under his breath.
I blinked, not expecting that. I could feel Thatcher walking away, and it took everything in me not to look over my shoulder or run after him.
“What?” I asked distractedly.
Bart blew out a breath and closed his eyes, opening them as his hands moved up to my face. “I made a mistake,” he said softly. “I was frustrated, tired, unhappy, whatever you want to call it, but I never should have—” He shook his head, looking at me like I was the holy grail in his hands. “I was so wrong, Gabi. I should have worked on the problem, not run from it. I made a mistake. But it’s not too late.”
I had no words. My mouth gaped open.
“You—you just married Dixie, Bart. How the hell—”
“We’re not married yet,” he said.