Page 185 of Clinically Bewitched
The schedule is ruined. Everything is ruined. No, not ruined. Just... adjusted. Unexpectedly adjusted. Very unexpectedly adjusted.
What if something goes wrong? What if the babies are in distress?
What if—my phone rang.
Fitz.
I answered on speaker. “What?”
“Just checking that you’re still breathing.”
“I’m breathing.”
“Are you sure? Because you sounded pretty close to a full panic attack back there.”
“I’m fine.”
“Your eye was twitching.”
“I’m aware.”
“Both eyes, actually. It was quite impressive. Very symmetrical.”
“Why are you calling me?”
“To remind you that Athena is fine, the babies are fine, and you’re going to be fine.”
Something in my chest loosened slightly. “How do you know they’re fine?”
“Because Winnie called the hospital. Athena arrived ten minutes ago. She’s stable, the babies are stable, and Dr. Morrison is already there.”
Stable. They’re stable.
Okay. Okay.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You’re welcome. Now drive safely, don’t have a panic attack, and for God’s sake, try to smile when you see your wife. She’s about to give birth to three humans. The least you can do is not look like you’re about to pass out.”
“I’m not going to pass out.”
“You passed out last time.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
“I was... surprised.”
“And you’re not surprised now?”
“I’m terrified now. That’s different from surprised.”
He laughed. “Fair enough. Good luck, Julien. You’re going to be a great father.”
He hung up before I could respond.
I pulled into the hospital parking lot, found a space, and sat there for exactly thirty seconds, trying to calm my racing heart.
