Mission Delivery(10)

    I stroked her hair then wiped away the tears that started trickling down her cheeks. “The past is the past, baby. All we can do is forgive, forget, and move towards our future. My gratefulness in having you in my life outshines any resentment I might have once had. Haven’t you realized you’ll always be my everything?”

    She gave me a watery smile, which quickly faded as the next contraction hit.

    The doctor looked up at the both of us. “I’ll tell you when to push, Ms. Roberts, and when I do, you’ll need to keep pushing for a count of ten. The nurses will count it out for you. Get ready…”

    Her pants became quicker, and I was not so sure it was from the pain as much as the anticipation of what was to come.

    “No matter what I say until I push this kid out, I love you, Bobby.”

    Well, that was mighty ominous.

    The nurses each picked up one of her legs and braced them against their bodies so the doctor had a clear view of what was going on.

    “Push, Ms. Roberts!” the doctor ordered.

    Belle grunted as she bore down, her face scrunched up and sweat dotting her brow.

    “One, two …” the nurse began counting. By the time she reached ten, Belle was screaming.

    “Now rest for a few seconds,” the doctor said absentmindedly as he did something with his hands that I couldn’t see due to the sheet covering Belle’s lap. Being the jealous asshole Belle often accused me of, I was half tempted to move down to make sure he was not doing anything fishy, but then I remembered Lucas’s warning about not looking. I was going to heed my buddy’s advice. If I saw my woman open enough to push out eight pounds of little person, I may never look at her vag the same way again.

    “Push again, Ms. Roberts!” the doctor barked.

    “One, two …” one of the nurses started counting again.

    “Oh, God, that hurts like a mother!” Belle whined.

    “Five, six …”

    “How big is this damn kid?”

    “Nine, ten …”

    “Ahhhh! You-slimey-bastard-I’m-going-to-rip-off-your-testicles!” She finished her push, screaming at me so fast that it sounded like all of her words had run together.

    Her fingers unclamped from mine, and I quickly switched hands to make sure she hadn’t broken the ones she had been holding.

    One of the nurses saw me flexing my fingers and giggled. I frowned at her, but she just rolled her eyes in response.

    “Suck it up, Mr. Baker. If she breaks a few of your fingers, so what? You are basically breaking her vagina.”

    Belle’s eyes bugged out. “He broke it?” Turning to me, she snarled, “Did you break my damn vagina, you good for nothing walking penis?”

    The doctor patted the top of her thigh gently. “There, there, Ms. Baker. You can beat him up later. Here we go! Push!”

    The giggling nurse quipped, “One, two, three …”

    “I’m going to cut your dick off in your sleep!”

    “Four, five, six …”

    “You’ll be looking into penile replacement surgery!”

    “Seven, eight, nine, ten.”

    Belle yanked on my arm, tugging me down so we were face-to-face. “Where’s a butcher’s knife when I need one!”

    I cringed at the imagery of Belle wielding a butcher’s knife. Apparently, my goods understood they were under threat, too, because they practically shriveled up so far they were trying to imitate a turtle hiding in its shell.

    Dr. Jerkoff crowed, “We’ve got the head and a head full of hair! Now don’t push; I have to make sure the umbilical cord is free from the baby’s neck. There we are! Good to proceed.”

    Collapsing back onto her bed, Belle snapped, “Well, please do give the rest of the kid her eviction notice so my whoo-ha and I can both cry.”

    Both nurses snorted yet were already bracing their hands and body to sustain Belle’s next, and hopefully last, push.

    “Almost done, Ms. Roberts. Now you’re going to push out her shoulders, and we’ll be in the home stretch. This is the hardest part, so give it all you got. Ready … push!”