“Weeeell,” Charlie drawled. “My mother loves to remind me she was in labor for thirty-one hours with me. In case I take her for granted, y’know.”
“Jesus,” Nick muttered. Lori’s pain-sounds got louder.
Zander’s voice was muffled, but Brian heard something about pushing. Lori groaned again, then shouted, more angry-sounding than hurt. “Motherfucker!” Suddenly her tone changed to a wordless wail, high and thin and weird, over and over.
Zander shouted, “Some help in here, guys!”
Charlie reached the room first, with Brian crowding against Nick behind him. Lori lay on the bed, arms flailing randomly, eyes screwed shut. Her knees were bent up on the bed, draped with a sheet. Zander looked up wide-eyed from the end of the bed, where he was holding her legs steady. “One of you, grab her hands and see if you can calm her down.”
Nick pushed past Charlie to grab Lori’s wrists, folding her arms down on her chest. She wiggled, but didn’t seem to be fighting him effectively. Her mouth opened wider as she cried out. Nick put more of his weight into holding her still. “Is she having a seizure?”
“I don’t know! Not typical.” Zander stood. “Charlie, get down here, hold her knees and watch for the baby’s head. Her waters broke and we’re getting close. I need to check her blood pressure.”
“I don’t— okay.” Charlie swapped positions with Zander, a hand on each of Lori’s knees through the sheet.
Zander grabbed stuff off the draped dresser, checking Lorie’s pulse, her heart, her eyes with a pen light, then her blood pressure. Brian felt like a useless blob, standing in the doorway. “What’s wrong? What should I do?”
“She seems stable.” Zander flicked a look his way. “I don’t know why she’s acting like this. BP’s not dropping, pulse is good. Doesn’t seem like a seizure.”
Charlie said, “I think I see something. Like, a head.”
Lori howled and her back arched. Nick leaned on her shoulders as Zander hurried back down the bed. “Yes, crowning now.”
“Should I call an ambulance?” Brian asked.
“No time. Talk to her. Maybe you can get through to her.” Zander squeezed in beside Charlie. “I’ll catch the baby, you keep her steady.” He raised his voice. “Good job, Lori. Push some more. Almost there. Push.”
Brian squatted beside Lori’s head and wiped the sweat off her face with a corner of the sheet. “Come on, Lor. Wake up. You’re having the baby.” He wanted her to open her eyes and say “No shit, moron,” but she just cried and jerked. “Push.” He echoed Zander, for want of something else to say. Opening his Finder eye, he tried to check her trace for changes, but everything was brilliant white and blurry in his head, and he shut back down. “Push, Lori. Push.”
“Head’s out now,” Zander said. “Almost there. One big contraction and we’re done.”
Brian repeated, “Push,” although Lori’s weirdness and the stuffy warmth and the tang of blood and sweat made him dizzy. His stomach clenched.
Lori shuddered and convulsed, arching, screaming. There was a fluid sound and Zander said, “Yes! It’s a boy.”
Abruptly, Lori’s wails stopped and her eyes snapped open. “What the fuck happened?”
“You had the baby,” Brian said and began to laugh uselessly.
Lori glared at Nick. “Let go of me, you bastard.”
Nick dropped her wrists and raised his hands. “Hey, wasn’t me flipping out.”
A soft whimper drew all their attention down to the foot of the bed. Zander stood, wiping a baby— my baby? no, please not— with a cloth. Brian got a brief glimpse of a tiny, pale arm waving before Zander turned to lay his bundle in the scale and bend over it.
“Is he all right?” Lori asked.
“Seems fine.” Zander listened with the stethoscope, fiddled about, then wrapped and lifted the bundled infant, as if to hold it out. “Uncle Brian?”
Brian froze, unable to move forward, unable to breathe, his arms heavy as lead.
Zander hesitated, then said, “Charlie, can you hold him while I check on Lori?”
“Sure.” Charlie straightened with a muffled groan and reached for the baby.
Zander helped him cradle the wrapped bundle mainly supported in his good arm, then turned to Lori. “You scared us. How are you feeling?”
Her eyes narrowed. “What scared you? I feel like shit.”
“You screamed,” Brian said. “Like— like a cat. And waved your arms and didn’t curse. At all.” You didn’t seem like you were there.
“Fuck that.”
Zander inflated the blood pressure cuff again. “You sound better, but you were in distress and unresponsive.” He listened with his scope.