Chapter 1 - Six Minutes Apart on the Kitchen Counter
The counter was cold under my palms and the daylight coming through the open front door was too bright for how much it hurt. I was bent over our kitchen counter in my light blue sweater, trying to breathe through it while counting in my head, and my hair kept sticking to the back of my neck. My hospital duffel was already packed and waiting by the door, gray and navy against the wall where Blake had left it that morning. He stood right beside me with his car keys in his hand, dark jacket still on, like we were already supposed to be moving.
That was the contradiction I couldn't make fit. I was in labor and ready to go, and his mother was standing in our entryway in her beige coat with her dark handbag over her arm, acting like we had time for something else.
My name is Claire. I was thirty-nine weeks pregnant and timing it on our kitchen clock.
It was daytime and the house smelled like toast and cleaner. Another one started low in my back and rolled forward, and I gripped the edge of the counter until my knuckles went white. I watched the second hand move. I watched Blake glance toward the blue front door instead of toward me. His mother shifted her bag higher on her shoulder and looked at him, not at me, and in that second I understood she was waiting for him to choose.
I tried to keep my voice steady when the pain eased enough to talk.
"Blake, the contractions are six minutes apart."
"Drop us at the mall first, ten minutes."
I turned my head. My phone lay dark on the counter next to where Blake had set his keys for a second, both of them right there within reach but neither of them helping me. My belly tightened again and I pressed my forehead down for a breath, listening to her shoes on our tile, listening to his keys jingle when he picked them back up.
"Wait, my doctor said, don't delay, I need you now."
He paused at the doorway with the daylight behind him. He glanced back at me once, brief, his hand tight around the keys, and my mother-in-law was already moving past him toward the steps. The duffel stayed on the floor by the door where no one touched it.
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"I'll be back fast."
The blue door was still open and the light was still coming in, and I was alone in the kitchen with my hands on the counter and another contraction building before I was ready for it.
