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She sucked in a deep breath and looked up at me with wide eyes. “I think my water just broke.”
“What?” I yelled. “Holy shit, I knew this was a bad idea.”
Poppy laughed, dragging my face closer and giving me aquick kiss. “It’s fine,” she said. “Childbirth happens all the—” she froze, face bending in pain. “Oh fuck a duck,” she groaned. “That’s a big one.”
I felt her stomach, and the skin was hard. “Have you been having contractions?” I asked incredulously.
“I mean, sort of?” she hedged.
“Poppy.”
“I thought it was false labor again, and they were way more than five minutes apart. I could still talk through them, so I didn’t think it was anything to worry about.” Looking into my face, she winced because my jaw was about hanging down to the ground. “Sorry?”
It was at that moment that I realized the entire suite was dead silent, eyes on me and Poppy.
“Is she—” Sheila asked.
“Holy shit, is she in labor?” Greer asked.
“I think she peed her pants,” Sage whispered.
“She’s wearing a skirt,” Ian corrected. “She peed her skirt.”
Poppy breathed out a laugh, hand over her stomach.
I was just trying not to have a panic attack in the middle of the box. “Yes, her water broke. We need to get out of here.”
The suite erupted. Sheila grabbed all of Poppy’s things, Greer bolted from the box to get security. Erik’s wife Lydia was on the phone with someone, asking about prepping a private hospital suite. Cameron, Ian, and Erik watched wide-eyed as their sister was gripped with another contraction, and her legs buckled as she cried out. Heart hammering, I wrapped an arm around her waist and yelled for Cameron.
“Go get the doctor,” I told him.
He ran from the suite as I eased Poppy onto a small sofa. “Breathe, okay? Deep breaths. You remember what she said in the birthing class.”
Poppy did as she was instructed. “Oh that one came fast,” she groaned.
“You’ll be fine, angel.” My voice came out calm and steady, which was a fucking miracle. My pulse was racing wildly, my heart trying to thrash out of my chest. There was nothing I could do. Not really.
Hold her hand.
Feed her ice chips.
Not stare at her vagina, which was a promise I’d made when we watched a birthing video in the class.
And it was that wildly out of control feeling that had me closing my eyes and fighting for calm. She squeezed my hand, and I opened my eyes.
There it was.
The calm, as it always was, was found in her.
She smiled. “We’re gonna meet our baby,” she whispered.
“Yeah, we are,” I whispered back. “I can’t wait.”
Cameron jogged back into the room, and Poppy’s head reared back when she saw her OB. “Dr. Beal? What are you doing here?” she asked.
Dr. Beal smiled from underneath her Voyagers hat. “Someone very generous purchased my ticket and heavily suggested I take in a preseason game.”
Poppy laughed, turning to give me a kiss. “You didn’t.”
