Tracing the Stars Page 21

  It wouldn’t be a long night, either. Shaking, I check my watch. Contractions were five minutes apart. I had an hour, tops. But I didn’t want to freak them out. I just had to get to the hospital in Mariposa.

  I climb into the passenger seat and bite my tongue when I see Leo give Ana a victorious, little smile and slink into the back seat.

  I hate him.

  Except I don’t hate him.

  I love him.

  T H I R T Y

  Leo

  DESPITE MY BEST intentions when I left her in that parking lot, I find myself unconsciously drawn to Emilia and her needs. Maybe it was seeing her again—it was so much easier to walk away when we were sixteen-hundred miles away from each other—or maybe it was slowly realizing my stupidity over the last few weeks that did me in. Either way, now that I have her back, I am going to do anything in my power to keep her, because I know what it feels like to be without her. As Ana speeds away and I remind Emilia to buckle herself in, much to her chagrin, I can’t help but smile because I’m near her.

  I am the world’s biggest idiot. I never should’ve walked away from her. I never should’ve let the guilt of Jake’s death eat me alive. The day at the funeral, watching her give her speech… I lost it. I was overwrought with guilt, and it consumed every cell of my body. I couldn’t see past it. I couldn’t see past my betrayal. I’d taken off and driven to my apartment in the city. I’d stayed there, sitting on my hands, until I knew her flight had left the next day. When I returned home, both Diane and my mother called me out, and I left again, thinking they just didn’t understand.

  Margaret had left me because I wasn’t paying attention. I was so consumed with myself, I didn’t see the signs. With Emilia, the same thing happened. The guilt was too much, and I blamed myself. I didn’t think of her, or what she needed and wanted. When she told me that loving me wasn’t a mistake, so wretched and pitiful in the parking lot, I almost relented. But Jake’s words clouded my mind, and I left, thinking she would be better off. Thinking she would be okay without me. She had her mom and sister, the Hansen’s, and the support of everyone around her. It wasn’t like I abandoned her.

  Except, I had abandoned her.

  And I began to send her baby things to make up for the guilt I felt for leaving her. It was all-consuming, and I spent every waking minute thinking of her.

  The first time she called me crying, I let it go to voicemail. Then, I turned my phone off for three days. It might’ve been cruel—I knew that now. I got the invitation to Gretchen’s wedding, and I knew Emilia would be there, but I continued on the dark and lonely path I’d cleared for myself. And I was lonely. So lonely that my bones hurt. I missed her so much, I was physically ill. My department put me up for tenure, but I declined the offer. I couldn’t concentrate. My teacher’s assistant was basically teaching the classes for me by that point, so I went home that day and wrote down exactly what I wanted in life.

  I wanted Emilia, first and foremost. Everything else would be a bonus. And I wanted everything with her—a family, a house with a fence, the whole shebang. I wanted it all.

  I wanted a challenging career. I loved my teaching position at UChicago, but I needed to be out on the field, making discoveries and changing the world. I needed to start living up to my reputation, and I couldn’t do that grading papers and dealing with bureaucratic, institutionalized red tape.

  Lastly, I wanted a life with Emilia, wherever that ended up being. I didn’t care if we stayed in the Bay Area, decided to move somewhere else entirely, or went back to Antarctica. I needed her by my side, so for the first time in my life, I was going to yield to her and what she wanted. I’d lived my life for me until that point, and that night, as I wrote down what I wanted, I realized I was going to start living for her.

  I just had to prove it.

  “Fuck,” Emilia groans, leaning into the seat and wincing. I reach out for her hand, but she swats it away.

  Okay, so I have some work to do.

  “We’re thirty-eight minutes away,” Ana says calmly, soothing her.

  “What hospital is it again?” I ask, already Googling the number.

  “John C. Fremont Medical Center,” Emilia rasps.

  I swallow and double check. “They don’t have an OBGYN on call, Emilia.” I scroll. “They don’t really have any major medical facilities. It’s a glorified urgent care.”

  “Shit,” Ana hisses, running a hand through her short, strawberry blonde hair.

  “How fast can you drive, Ana?” I ask, setting my phone down and leaning forward.

  “Why are you asking her that?” Emilia says, her voice uneven.

  I sigh. “Because I think it’s best if we try to make it to San Francisco.”

  “Are you mad?”

  “There’s no way!”

  I frown and answer both of them. “Look, if Ana drives as quick as it is safe—ninety, in most places around here—we’ll get there in a couple of hours. And we’re driving through Stockton, so in case you don’t make it all the way to San Francisco, we have a place to stop in about an hour.”

  “Leo,” Emilia begs, turning to me. “I don’t think I’m going to make it an hour.”

  Her words terrify me. I reach out for her hands, holding them tightly as she sighs and closes her eyes. “I shouldn’t have come to the wedding so close to my due date. If anything happens to this baby—”

  “It won’t,” I reassure her.

  “I’m going ninety-five,” Ana says, her voice nervous.

  “How does it feel to be speeding for the first time in your life?” I ask Emilia, and she grins, remembering one of our first conversations.

  “I would’ve preferred a dangerous drive along the coast when I didn’t feel like a buffalo, but I suppose this will do.” Her face distorts in pain as she squeezes my hand. I try not to grimace, but damn, she’s squeezing it hard.

  “Drive faster!” Emilia screams at Ana. She throws her head back against the seat and breathes loudly. “I have a fucking demon inside of me that feels like it wants to rip my vagina open,” she whines, huffing through the contraction.

  I smile. There’s my girl.

  “You’re doing so well,” I say softly, and she shoots me a death glare. “I’m so proud of you,” I add, but she’s too distracted by the contractions to respond. I turn to Ana. “Lorelai is bringing the hospital bag. When we get there, I’ll get out and help Emilia into the hospital while you find parking.”

  She gives me a small smirk and winks. “Sounds good, captain.” I’m just about to respond when she continues, her voice quiet and only intended for me to hear over Emilia’s guttural warbles. “If you fuck with my sister’s emotions again, I will hunt you down and cut your testicles off. Do you understand me?”

  I choke back a cough. “Loud and clear.”

  “Good. It’s about time you came around.”

  “Leo!” Emilia shouts, startling me. “I need water,” she whimpers.

  I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. If they need to perform a C-section—”

  “I’M NOT HAVING A C-SECTION!” she shouts, glaring at me with wild eyes.

  I grind my teeth together. “Whatever keeps you safe. I’m not risking it.”

  She looks at me as if she wants to slit my neck.

  “We’re thirty minutes from Stockton,” Ana says loudly. “Think you can make it?” I see her eye the speedometer nervously.

  Emilia shakes her head, and I begin to panic, seeing the sweat drip down her forehead and the way she’s sitting with her legs apart. I’m not a doctor, but intuitively, I know what’s happening. She’s close, and we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere.

  “Leo,” she says urgently, reaching back for my hand. “I’m so hot.” She begins to rapidly blow air through her lips.

  “Just hang in there,” Ana urges, gripping the steering wheel. “I would go faster, but I don’t want to kill us all.”

  “You’re doing great,” I tell Ana. “Thank you.�
�

  “I need to get out of the car,” Emilia says quickly, reaching for the handle. “Pull over.”

  “Emilia,” I start, sighing. I’m about to tell her a story to distract her when she says five words that terrify me to no end.

  “The baby is coming now.”

  Ana looks at me in the rearview mirror, and I know she’s thinking the same thing. I nod to her as she pulls off, and I quickly dial 9-1-1 to call for an ambulance. As the car stops, Emilia bursts out as I’m on the phone with the operator, explaining the situation.

  “Sir, I see you in the system, and it’ll be a good thirty minutes before we can get an ambulance out to you. Do you know how to deliver a baby?”

  I huff. “Of course I don’t,” I say quickly, just as Ana runs around to where I’m standing. Emilia is on all fours, making sounds I’ve never heard come from another human. My heart lurches. She’s going to be okay. I will make damn sure she’s okay.

  “You dictate,” she says, dropping down to where Emilia lays on the dirt. There’s nothing around us. The two-lane road is surrounded by trees. A car passes but doesn’t slow. “I’ll deliver.”

  “Oh my god,” Emilia screeches, pulling her dress up to her thighs.

  “Leo, get the towel in the trunk,” Ana directs, her voice calm and professional. She’s in doctor mode now, and I’m a little relieved because of that fact.

  “Okay, we have a doctor delivering the baby,” I tell the operator. “What’s the first step?” I grab the orange towel out of the trunk, and Ana lays it under Emilia. I flip the phone and turn on the speaker.

  “How far apart are the contractions?” the operator asks.

  “Two to three minutes,” Emilia answers, gritting her teeth.

  “First baby?” the operator asks.

  “Yes,” I answer, bending down to where Emilia is positioned. My hands are shaking, but I pull her hair—which came out of its braid—away from her face. “Should we be worried about any complications?”

  “Not necessarily. Babies who come quickly are typically normal, healthy births, but just in case, the ambulance will help with any complications.”

  The ambulance that’s twenty-eight minutes away.

  “The baby’s head is crowning,” Ana says, peering underneath Emilia’s dress. I see her remove Emilia’s underwear.

  “What position is the mother in?” The operator asks.

  “Hands and knees,” Ana shouts. A car passes and honks.

  “Okay, just be sure someone is there to catch the baby.”

  Ana nods. “I’m here.”

  Emilia moves and lays down on her back, groaning and writhing in pain. I sit down next to her and hold her hand, propping her torso up with the tote bag she was carrying earlier. She bends her knees and spreads her legs.

  “Leo, I want you to deliver the baby,” Emilia begs, looking up at me with a terrified expression.

  The blood drains from my face. “What? Why?”

  “Don’t you want to deliver your baby?” She gives me a small smile before her face contorts in pain and she sucks in a loud breath of air, mumbling something about her exploding vagina.

  Your baby.

  I look at Ana, and she just shakes her head and smiles, gesturing for me to take her spot.

  I move Emilia’s dress up and narrow my eyes. “Is it supposed to look like th—”

  “Yes,” Ana laughs, reassuring me.

  “Is the mother pushing?” the operator asks.

  “Yes,” Emilia screams, placing her hands palms down and lifting her head as she pushes. In one fell swoop, the head pops out.

  “Holy shit,” I mutter, grinning. “The head is out.”

  Ana stands behind me. “Reach out and place your hands under the head. Don’t pull. He or she will come out on the next push,” she directs.

  “What’s happening?” Emilia asks, looking between us with a panicked expression.

  “Your baby is almost out,” I say calmly. “Our baby.”

  “Oh my god,” she mumbles, throwing her head back. “This can’t be happening.”

  I brush her leg with my hand, trying to calm her. “You’re doing so great. You’re amazing, and powerful, and you can do this. You were built for this, and you’re going to hold your baby in about ten seconds. Okay?”

  “What if something happens? What if—” she cuts herself off with a yowl.

  “Push, Emilia!”

  And she does, because in the next second, a tiny human comes out and I place my hands underneath it, feeling the warmth. A warbling cry comes from the tiny face. I feel my throat constrict. I’m in awe—the woman I love created this tiny life. The woman I love and my best friend. I will love this baby girl for the rest of my life because of that fact.

  “You did it,” I say quietly, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s a girl.”

  Emilia meets my eyes and laughs as tears stream down her face. She reaches her arms out and I place the baby into them, trying to figure out the easiest way with the umbilical cord still attached.

  “Wow,” Emilia whispers, cradling the baby like a natural.

  “The baby is fine and crying,” Ana tells the operator. She, too, has tears in her eyes. “She’s perfect.”

  “That’s fantastic news. Just wait for the ambulance. They’ll take care of everything.”

  We hang up and Ana looks between us. “I’m going to go call Mom. I’ll give you two a minute.”

  As she walks away, Emilia looks up at me. I’m covered in blood and goop, but I don’t care. In that moment, she’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her. Her daughter—our daughter—cries against her chest, but she soon calms down as Emilia tightens her grip and begins soothing her in a way that crushes my heart. I look down at her daughter. My daughter. The pink skin, the small sounds of satisfaction… I’ll never be the same.

  “She’s gorgeous, just like her mother,” I say softly, reaching out and stroking the tiny arm. Jake’s baby. He would’ve loved having a daughter.

  “I can’t believe it’s possible to love another person this much,” she croaks. “Thank you,” she adds, looking at me. “For insisting on coming today. For delivering her.”

  I nod. “Of course. I’m here now, okay?” She swallows and begins to rock the baby. “For good this time. I’m so, so, so sorry, Emilia,” I start, sighing. I wipe my hands on the towel and place my hand on her face. “I love you. I am so in love with you. I’m sorry the guilt clouded that for so long. I want to be with you. For now, and for always. You, me, and this little lady,” I add, smiling. She cries and laughs at the same time.

  “But what about your job?”

  “I quit,” I say quickly. “Last week. And I spent the weekend packing up my apartment and getting my affairs in order.”

  “You quit? But I thought—”

  “We’ll talk about the logistics later, okay?” I brush the hair off of her face.

  She looks down and lowers the top of her dress. The baby’s head moves down. “She’s feeding,” she says peacefully. “I read you’re supposed to do that right away,” she adds, giving me a shy smile.

  “Have I told you how amazing you are?” I whisper, leaning down and kissing her forehead. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she says, biting her lower lip and scowling a bit. “But I haven’t entirely forgiven you yet.”

  I let out a nervous laugh. “I’m sure I’ll pay for a few days.”

  “Try a few years,” she jokes, twisting her lips to the side and smiling.

  God, I am crazy about her.

  “Do you have a name picked out?” I ask, looking quickly at Ana as paces on the phone.

  “Not yet. I was hoping you’d help me?”

  I open my mouth to speak but a lump forms, and I blink back the tears. “I’d be honored.”

  “Anything but Margaret,” she adds, grinning.

  “That’s fine by me.” I kiss her on the lips gently.

  We sit there for a few more minutes in silence, wai
ting for the ambulance. We just look at the baby—our daughter—as she feeds. I’m so proud, so happy, so fulfilled.

  The ambulance finally comes, and Ana follows in her car, but not before giving her niece a quick kiss. The medics attend to her as we drive to Stockton, where a doctor is waiting for us. A few short hours later, we’re in the hospital room surrounded by Ana, her boyfriend, Kais, and Lorelai. Diane, Zack, and my mother are on the first flight tomorrow morning. I sent a text to Gretchen and Damien, who are stopping by tomorrow on their way to the airport. The baby gets examined, and she’s as healthy as can be, weighing seven pounds, nine ounces. She’s tall at twenty-two inches long, and her eyes are the exact same shade of blue as Jake’s.

  When everyone leaves, and after Emilia gets up to place the baby in her small, bedside bassinet, she turns to me.

  “Did you really quit your job?”

  I nod, walking over to her and placing my hands on either side of her face. She’s in a hospital gown, and her hair is piled on top of her head without any makeup. She’s still breathtaking.

  “I did quit. And my things are in storage for the time being.”

  She shakes her head and smiles. “So you were planning on winning me back at the wedding, then?”

  I laugh. “I was hoping to, yes.”

  She smirks and climbs into her hospital bed. The doctors say she’ll be free to go tomorrow morning—they just want to watch her and the baby overnight because of how and where she delivered. I don’t plan on leaving her side.

  “I wanted to make you pay,” she says quietly, playing with a hangnail. When she looks up at me, her face is worn and weary. “But I just want to sleep, and I want you by my side.” She gives me a tired smile and pats the bed. “We can discuss tomorrow, okay?”

  I climb in next to her. “I’m here. Tonight, tomorrow, the rest of time. I’m here. Jake would’ve wanted me here.” She nods as she scoots closer to me in the double-sized hospital bed. I wrap an arm around her carefully, making sure to be gentle. Pulling her hair behind her, I kiss her temple and watch as she falls quickly asleep.

  Emilia fucking Harper.