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Before I could smooth things out further, the gate buzzer sounded and Layla came running out of the pantry to see who had arrived. “Uncle Scuds is here,” she shouted excitedly, jumping up and down beside the close circuit monitor. I hadn’t been expecting him, and I glanced at Harper with a look that told her we’d be picking this up later.
“What brings you to town?” I asked, opening the front door to let my bandmate inside.
“Meeting with Max and Finley. I promised Finley the next time he was down visiting Max I’d have dinner with him. Obviously, I couldn’t come to town and not call in on my favorite dude,” Scuds offered, then turned to Layla and fist-bumped her.
“You’re going to dinner this evening?
“Yeah, boys’ night with the three of us.”
“Why don’t you go with them?” Harper prompted.
“I wasn’t invited.” My tone was laced with sarcasm. I knew she probably wanted me out of the way because she knew our conversation was far from done.
“Yeah, you are. It goes without saying,” Scuds replied in an even tone.
“Thanks, but I’ll pass if you don’t mind,” I answered again, determined not to go to bed without us hashing out the earlier debate.
Leaving Harper after a rare row wasn’t an option for me. I’d never been someone to start something and walk away, and I would never have left her without trying to find a compromise that suited us both.
Scuds stayed for a couple of hours and left when Matty made dinner because he knew Layla would be following her bedtime routine afterward. When Layla went to bed and Harper and I were settled in the living room, I attempted to talk to her again.
The disagreement we’d had didn’t have any easy fix, I knew that going into it, but I was determined to have my say.
“Look, Harper, I don’t want an argument, but I don’t feel comfortable with you putting yourself and our baby at risk.”
“What you don’t understand is midwives are very skilled to bring babies into this world. I don’t want to go to the hospital. I want my care to be given via the River City Birthing Center. All this stuff around normal childbirth has been made out to be far more complex than it is. Having a baby isn’t an illness, so why should I go to the hospital to give birth?”
“The hospital is the safest place for you to have our baby.”
“Is it? I mean statistically? Here.” She dropped a book and a few leaflets on the table in front of me. “I’m trying to make this easier on all of us. I hate having to keep saying this, but what happened with Grace was a horrible fluke of nature, Cole. I know you know this deep down, and you’re fighting against a program of trauma inside your head, but I wasn’t a part of that.”
I toyed with the colored leaflets and picked up the book, thumbing through the pages.
“Read these brochures, then tell me if you would rather me and our baby be assisted by someone who brings babies safely into the world every day, or a doctor who sees me maybe four or five times and catches it after meeting me at the hospital? These women are experts who are trained in all aspects of prenatal, labor, and postnatal care. Whoever we choose will know us as a family, discuss all your issues, and help me devise a plan of care that is the best for me and our baby.”
“You make it all sound so simple.”
“Because it is. Providing everything is going well, these people are the best for me. If not, then they’d refer me to my obstetrician for him to take over.”
The last comment made me feel slightly easier about her choice. “Do we get to meet these people?”
“Of course. I was going to talk to you about it; it was unfortunate that I slipped up with Layla. I guess I got caught up in the moment. Which doesn’t happen often enough around here.”
Staring quietly, I conceded that point because there were times when I needed to know the ins and outs of a bee’s ass for anyone to gain my permission for something to change.
“Fine, set us up with an appointment, but I want to talk to the OB doc about this as well.”
“Good, we can do this at the 3D ultrasound scan,” she replied in a clipped tone.
“Come here,” I ordered, opening my arms, because I needed to feel close to her.
“No, you come here, I’m pregnant,” she replied playfully.
“No, because if being pregnant is no excuse for anything, then you can get off your ass and come please your man,” I stated firmly, with more than a hint of amusement in my tone. I wasn’t totally satisfied, but I did feel slightly better informed about what Harper wanted to happen, so for now at least I was willing to let the subject slide.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
True to her word, two weeks later Harper had set up a meeting with two midwives from a place called the Riverside Birthing Center.
