Page 49 of Penn

Swallowing, Dixie lets out a soft breath. “Did she have these complications with Bernie?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Did the doctors give any indication before you found out she was pregnant that she could have complications if she got pregnant?”

“No… I don’t think so.”

She squeezes his hands and leans forward. “If she had been told this, would you have taken extra precautions? Done more to prevent her from getting pregnant?”

“Yes,” he whispers.

“Then there is absolutely no way this is your fault, Zeppelin. Bad things happen sometimes, and there’s nothing we can do to prevent it. You love each other, and that love came through in the form of a baby.”

“I can’t do this without her.”

My chest tightens as I feel the pain he feels. It radiates off him like heat, and I can barely breathe. I don’t know how he’s still conscious.

“You can, and if you have to, you will. Because Bernie and that little girl depend on you,” Dixie says. “But you’re not alone. And I really don’t think you have to worry about that.”

Tears continue to fall down his cheeks, and he just stares helplessly at her. “How do I do this?”

“You take it one day at a time. Once she’s stronger, she’ll wake up. And when she does, you’ll name your baby girl, and you’ll go home as a family of four. Just gotta get through this obstacle first.”

Zep nods and releases her hands to wipe his face. “You’re right.”

“I am a woman, so…”

Everyone lets out a soft chuckle, and he stands. “I just needed…”

“I know. And we’re all here,” Dixie says.

He sniffles and nods. “Thank you.”

Jolene leads him out to get cleaned up, and Dixie lets out a long breath. Jethro walks over and crouches down in front of her, taking her hand in his. “You did good, girl.”

“That was so difficult,” she whispers, tears in her eyes. “I’ve never seen pain like that before. It took everything in me to just breathe.”

“We’re lucky to have you in the family.”

Letting out a small chuckle, the tears fall. “Thanks.”

“Get her home, Penn. Get some rest. It’s been a long day.”

“No, I’d like to stay—”

“We’ll come back,” I promise her. “But he’s right. You should get some rest. You need your strength.”

What no one says is how much Zep will probably lean on her in the next few days, and emotionally, it’ll take a toll. She needs to take care of herself and the baby to help take care of him.

She doesn’t argue, surprisingly, and I take her hand as we walk out to my pickup. But she stops at the door and doesn’t get in.

“Something wrong?” I ask, worried she’s having pains. Contractions. Some sort of sickness.

“I just need a moment,” she says, her hands on her belly as she closes her eyes. “A prayer.”

I’ve never been a religious man. After the things I’ve experienced, seen, and done, it’s kind of hard to believe in a higher power. Until today, I thought we were all pretty much fucked.

When she opens her eyes, she gives me a small smile. “Sorry.”