Page 156 of Over the Line

The game wasn’t on for a while, so we threw on a sitcom she and Chris had watched a thousand times over. It was kind of stupid, but it passed the time.

After an episode finished, I realized the pregame show would be coming on in an hour or so. I turned to Jasmine, ready to ask if she wanted to watch it or just wait for the game to start, but I did a double take. She had her hand on her belly and her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth pulled into a tight line. I thought she was holding her breath.

“Hey,” I said gently. “You okay?”

Still grimacing, she nodded. After a moment, she slowly released her breath and relaxed against the cushion. “If these are Braxton Hicks, the real thing is going to suck.”

I didn’t gainsay her; I had no firsthand experience, but I’d watched my ex-wife go through it all four times. “Do you want another pillow for your back?” I started to get up.

“No.” She shifted uncomfortably. “I think this one’s making it worse.” She pulled it out from behind her back and tossed it aside. “It’s not making it any better, that’s for sure.”

I chewed my lip. “How bad is it?”

“It was kind of achy for a while, but the last hour or so…” She made a face and once again shifted around. With a soft laugh, she added, “Good thing I didn’t try eating pizza or something earlier. This plus heartburn…” She stuck out her tongue.

I studied her. “It keeps happening? The pain?”

Jasmine nodded. “Yeah. Like it really hurts for a minute, and then it backs off. A little while later, though…” She straightened, some panic creeping into her eyes. “You don’t… You don’t think it’s the real deal, do you?”

“Uh, well…” I swallowed, trying to figure out how to answer that without making her freak out. “Do you want to go the hospital? Worst-case, they’ll tell you you’re not in labor and send you home.”

She gulped. “Or they’ll tell me I’m in labor. But it’s not time yet! I’m only thirty-eight weeks! They say first babies usually come late and⁠—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” I sat up a little. “Thirty-eight weeks is fine. That’s about when Chris was born.”

Her eyes locked on mine. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. And he was totally fine. So was his mom.” I inclined my head. “Do you want to wait and see a bit? Or do you want to get checked out?”

She took some slow, deep breaths. “Let’s wait and see? I don’t think it’s—I mean, it’s not that bad yet.” Her eyebrows knitted together, her expression begging me to tell her what to do.

I had a flash of my younger self panicking as Taylor and I had tried to figure out if she was in labor this time or if they were going to send us home again. What if it was another false alarm? What if it wasn’t and we waited too long? What were we supposed to do?

And of course, I hadn’t realized in the moment how much my panic had freaked out my wife in a time when she’d needed that the least. It had taken two babies for me to figure that out; at least I’d been a better support for her with the third and fourth, but I still had some serious regrets in that department.

In the present, keeping my voice as calm as I could, I said, “We can wait. Even when it’s obvious it’s the real thing, there’s still time to get to the hospital. It’s only fifteen minutes away.”

Jasmine took another couple of breaths. “But what about Chris? I know he wants to be here, and—” Tears welled up, and her voice shook. “What if he misses out?”

“We’ll do everything we can to get him here, okay?” I smiled. “We’ll put him on FaceTime if we have to. But the most important thing right now is taking care of you and the baby. He’ll understand if things happen too fast while he’s gone.”

Her expression crumpled a little, and I got it. She was a scared first-time mom, and her partner wasn’t here.

“I don’t think it’ll happen that fast,” I said gently. “There’s time. We can go to the hospital just to be sure, and if it looks like this is the real deal, we’ll call him.”

Please, please let that be enough time.

She chewed her lip, then nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.” She gestured at the entryway. “The suitcase is in the hall closet.”

Smart. They’d prepacked and kept it near the door. She and my son were already more on top of things than my clueless ass had been when my oldest was born.

I collected the suitcase, grabbed both of our phone chargers, and loaded the car.

We’d barely pulled out of the parking lot when the pain seemed to ratchet up a notch. She wasn’t screaming and writhing, but if my memory was correct from my ex’s pregnancies, Jasmine was definitely getting out of Braxton Hicks territory.

As I pulled onto the freeway, she pleaded, “Call Chris. Please. Tell the team to send him home.”

“I will. We’ll be at the hospital in ten minutes. As soon as we’re out of the car, I promise, I’ll call him.”