The Nice Guy Next Door Page 6

I realize I’ve been lost in thought and shoot a text back to Jameson. I retype it three times. When did I become so silly over a friend?

  Millie: Ha! Thanks for the warning!

  Jameson: Is Millie short for something?

  Why must he ask this? I thought he was going to ask when we were talking about Lo’s name before book club last week. I was so relieved when he didn’t. My parents really had interesting taste in names when deciding what to torment me with for the rest of my life.

  Millie: Yep.

  Jameson: And…

  Millie: And what?

  Jameson: Well, what is it?

  Millie: Wouldn’t you like to know?! Mwahahaha!

  I silence my phone so I can ignore all of his pleading messages that I assume he’s going to send. It drives people crazy that I don’t tell them my actual name. A lot of people eventually figure it out. I can tell when they do, because the first time I see them after they do, they look at me with that pitying stare, and they never ask me about my name again.

  I pull out my computer to work on my novel, and the words flow out of me. I originally thought I wanted the hero of the story to be an arrogant, grumpy, alpha-male type, but I’ve changed my mind. I want him to be kind and thoughtful. Someone who would give someone a ride when they need it and listens when people need an ear to talk to. My heroine is a little too sensitive to fall for a broody male, anyway. I do want this to be somewhat believable.

  Friday is limping across the finish line, but it made it. Tess has spent most of the day crying because it’s her last day of work. She actually hugged Gertrude and told her she’s going to miss seeing her every day. That was when we knew she wasn’t functioning on all cylinders, and Hannah suggested she go home a little early and take a nap. Tess did not like that but agreed it might be a good idea.

  “Hey, Tess, before you go, I want to ask you and Hannah something…” I say. Both women turn to me and wait for me to speak. “I was wondering if y’all would want to come over for a girls’ night at my house tonight. Nothing major, just junk food and a movie. It’s Friday, so I know you probably already have plans, so it’s totally fine if you can’t.” I’m rambling again, and my heart is pounding, which I’m aware is silly. It’s not like I’m giving a presentation on solving world hunger. I’m literally just asking people if they want to hang out with me.

  Hannah claps her hands and bounces on the balls of her feet, sending relief washing through my veins. “Yes! I need some girl talk!” she shouts. Gertrude gives her the stink eye from the circulation desk where she has been busy scaring the soul from a sweet after-school employee who returns books to the shelves.

  We both look to Tess for her answer. She’s rubbing her belly and swaying from side to side. “Yeah, sure. It could be my last chance before this girl is born,” she says with a sleepy smile. “But first, I’m going to get that nap before I have to pick Lily up from daycare.”

  A running list of things to do starts rushing through my head: hide the unpacked boxes in the garage, pick up snacks, find the throw blankets, etc. Should we paint our nails, or is that too cliche? I send a text to Lo, begging her to clean up the house a little before I get home and tell her she can invite someone over if she wants to.

  We close up the library at 5:00, and I run to the tiny grocery store here in town. I’m steering the cart like it’s my own personal race car, and anyone in my path better make way. Move it, Granny! I’ve got snacks to buy!

  I grab ingredients for brownies, chips, fruit, and sodas. I pass the Bagel Bites in the freezer section and remember that Lo used to love those when she was little. I grab four boxes. Is it too much? Who knows? I don’t have time to think about serving sizes right now.

  The cashier looks at my food choices, and I know that that is judgment in her eyes. She’ll go tell the rest of the town about the new girl’s horrible diet later, and all of the mamas will tell their single adult sons to steer clear of me. Can’t have their precious sons shackled to someone who has the audacity to serve Bagel Bites.

  Newsflash: I don’t want your sons, anyway!

  I rush home and kick my heels off at the door. The dishwasher is running, and there’s a nice clean scent coming from the kitchen. The lines on the thick rug tell me that Lo vacuumed. Bless her! I walk by the bathroom and notice the mountain of Lo’s laundry is noticeably missing. My ear perks up at the sound of the washing machine running.

  I must have bumped my head and woken up in an alternate universe. When I asked Lo to clean up a bit, I expected the bare minimum. She has exceeded even what I would have done. Even more surprising than our clean house is the sound of teenage girls giggling coming from Lo’s bedroom.

  I knock on her door to let her know I’m home, and she swings her door open with a smile on her face. “Millie! This is my new friend, Amy!”

  Amy waves to me, and I immediately love her. Her dark curly hair is a riot, and she’s wearing a baggy t-shirt that says I put down my book to be here. Would it be wrong if I said I want to be Amy when I grow up? “It’s nice to meet you,” I say.

  “I hope it’s okay that she came over. You did say I could invite someone,” Lo says.

  “Of course. I have two people from work coming at 6:00. Thank you so much for cleaning. You’re wonderful, and I love you!”

  I go to my room and change into some comfy clothes. It’s not a true girls’ night if you can’t wear pajamas, right? I follow Amy’s lead and put on a t-shirt with a T. rex trying to read a book. Poor T. rexes really got the short end of the stick with those tiny arms. No wonder they’re extinct. I put my hair into a top-knot and exchange my contacts for my thick-framed glasses. Life is good.

  Hannah and Tess arrive promptly at 6:00, and they proceed to ooh and ahh over the renovations on the house. They tell me that this house used to be quite the dump a year ago and that Jameson and his Pop did all of the renovations on it with Eilleen designing everything. I had no idea that Jameson did any of the work in here. I run my hands along the marble countertops and think of him doing the same.

  Lo and Amy venture from their room to eat snacks with us. Lo tells everyone about her encounter with the bully boy on the first day of school, which dissolves into all of us talking about how awful high school boys are.

  Tess tells us about when she was in ninth grade—the dark ages, before smartphones—and she was writing a note to give to her friend, and the boy sitting in front of her took it and read it to the people sitting around her. “Thank goodness for texting!” Lo and Amy say in unison.

  The conversation turns to pregnancy and babies, thanks to Tess’s round belly. We all have questions since none of us have even thought about having a baby anytime soon, for obvious reasons. “It goes by pretty quickly until the last few weeks. Time seems to stop at the end,” she says when asked about what it’s like to be pregnant for three-fourths of a year. Thinking about it that way makes it seem like so long.

  “I’m so ready for this child to come out I could cry,” she says.

  “I’ve heard that dancing can induce labor! Let’s turn on some music and dance!” Hannah says. Amy and Lo jump up from their barstools and turn on some peppy music. I laugh when N’Sync blares through the speakers.

  We all dash to the living room to dance around like kids at a slumber party. Well, Tess doesn’t do any dashing. It’s more of a penguin waddle. One song after another plays, all hits from my childhood. I twirl and jump and leap. I throw in an air guitar as I sing along with the song. I look over, and Lo and Amy are executing the perfect running man.

  A nice sheen of sweat is forming on my back and forehead. I haven’t gotten this much exercise in a long time. I used to run all the time, but that took a backseat after Lo moved in with me. My heart is pounding fast, and it feels great. This is not what I imagined doing for our girls’ night, but this is so much better than sitting on the couch, watching a movie.

  Britney Spears comes on, and we all squeal with excitement. It’s a universal fact: everyone loves Brit
ney. And if they say they don’t love her, they’re either lying or they’re wrong. I’ve been a die-hard fan since I first heard “Baby, One More Time.” My dad never let me watch the music video—he said the schoolgirl uniform was highly inappropriate. Now that I’m older and understand, I have to agree that he was right.

  Hannah and I are dancing and laughing together while Amy tries to teach Tess how to do the running man. Suddenly, there’s a popping sound, and a gush of water covers the hardwood floor under Tess’s feet.

  “Oh my gosh,” Tess says in shock. And then she bends over with her hands on her knees. “Oh my gosh.”

  “Holy crap! She’s gonna have a baby!” Lo yells.

  “What do we do?” asks Hannah. She’s pacing and fanning her face. She reminds me of expectant fathers in movies from the sixties.

  Tess lets out a low moan, and I realize she’s having a contraction. Yeah, definitely not what I had planned for girls’ night. What do you do when a new friend starts having a baby in your house?

  “Should we call an ambulance?” Amy asks.

  “It would take forever for it to get here,” says Hannah. Her eyes are wide. “She should have time to get home and then go to the hospital, right?” I shrug my shoulders. I’ve never had a baby before. How should I know?

  Tess moans again, much louder this time. All four of us clueless females stand around her, watching on in dismay until her contraction stops and she starts giving us orders. “Hannah, call my husband and tell him to get over here now. And tell him to bring my hospital bag and an extra change of clothes! Millie, call an ambulance. Lo, boil some water. Amy, get towels.”

  Another contraction overtakes her, and she squats down as she rides it out. When she opens her eyes again, I ask her what the heck is going on. “I thought labor lasts hours,” I say in a panic. “Why don’t I drive you to the hospital?”

  “Sorry,” she says. “I’m one of those freaks of nature who has scary-fast labors. My first was only forty-five minutes long from start to fin—” Another contraction interrupts her.

  I remember what I’m supposed to be doing and get up to grab my phone. I call 911, and the operator is calm and reassuring. He lets me know that they’re getting someone on their way, but we live out in the country, and it will be a little bit. I look over at Tess, and her contractions seem to be coming hard and fast. She doesn’t have ‘a little bit’ of time before that baby is coming out.

  The operator asks me questions about Tess’s disposition, her coloring, how close the contractions are…on and on with the questions. I don’t know how to answer most of them. Disposition? She looks miserable. I’ve always assumed that’s normal for a woman in labor, but what do I know?

  Really, Tess doesn’t seem too bad off, all things considered. She’s leaning over the back of the couch, rocking her hips back and forth. Her eyes are closed, face pinched in pain, and she’s breathing hard through another long contraction that I’m starting to think is going to last forever.

  A loud bang sounds at the front door, and a man with wild eyes holding a toddler in bunny pajamas comes barreling inside. “Tess, baby, are you okay?” he asks in a breathless voice. He’s panicked. I can see that he wants to put his daughter down to help his wife, but the girl has her arms wrapped around his neck in a death grip.

  I go to them and say, “Hi, I’m Millie. This is my house. What’s your name?” I try to keep my voice as even and peaceful as possible. The little girl can already feel the tension in the room, and the sight of her mom in pain is worrying her.

  She studies my face for a moment before saying, “Lily,” in a quiet, squeaky voice. Her hair is sticking up in places, and she’s clinging to a unicorn lovey. He must have pulled her out of her bed to come over here.

  I beckon Lo and Amy over and introduce them to the sweet little girl. They offer to take her back to Lo’s bedroom and entertain her or try to get her back to sleep. Anything to get away from the sight of the woman about to give birth in my living room.

  Tess lets out a deep moan, and Lily asks, “Is my mommy okay?” Lo and Amy exchange a glance, unsure how to answer. I usher them down the hall and suggest they turn on a movie for her to try to drown out the sound.

  “Your mommy is doing great right now. Your baby sister is about to be born,” I tell her, and that seems to make the little girl happy. She settles down on the bed, and Lo turns on a cartoon for her. “Let me know if you need anything,” I say before booking it back to the living room as Tess bellows out a howl of pain.

  It has only been thirty minutes. I thought women labored for hours and hours. I’ve never heard of a forty-five-minute labor and delivery. Maybe she meant it just felt like it was forty-five minutes. But judging from the sounds coming from the living room, she was being serious. “Tess, are you okay? What do you want me to do?” I hear Tess’s husband panicking.

  “I want you to sit down and stop talking!” Tess snaps at her husband.

  I grab blankets and a pillow from the hall closet to make her a nice comfy-ish place for her to lie down. I carry them all into the living room and make a pallet on the floor beside the couch.

  None of us here know how to deliver a baby. This could go very, very wrong. Without giving myself a chance to second-guess myself, I call Jameson. If he’s home, he could be here in just a minute.

  He answers on the second ring, and I shout into the phone. “I know you’re not a paramedic or anything, but how much first aid training do you have? You have to have some, right?”

  “Uhhh, is everything ok?” he asks. He sounds worried, and who wouldn’t be with that kind of greeting?

  “Tess is having a baby! In my freaking living room, Jameson...right now! Paramedics are still about fifteen minutes away. I don’t know what I’m doing, and her husband is on the verge of a literal panic attack. Help!” I look over at Tess’s husband, and he has his hands gripped in his long messy hair. Hannah’s off to the side with her arms wrapped around her middle and worried eyes watching everything unfold.

  “I’ve done classes on roadside emergencies. It did not cover births, though. I know a guy who delivered a baby on the side of the road. I doubt Tess wants me there, and I don’t know how much help I’d really be, anyway,” he says.

  “It’s better than nothing! Get over here, stat!” I yell and hang up the phone.

  Two minutes later, Jameson walks into the house, looking tense but still loads calmer than anyone else in this house.

  He meets me in the middle of the living room and says, “I am highly unqualified for this.”

  “Listen, her husband—who still hasn’t introduced himself to me—is practically hyperventilating. I cannot do blood. Lo and her friend, Amy, were gagging when her water broke. Hannah’s the only one partially keeping it together…but look at her.” He glances over at her still holding down her spot by the wall.

  He nods his head and walks farther into the room. “Tess, Millie called me for some help. Are you okay with me being here?” he asks her in a reassuring voice.

  “Honestly, at this point, I don’t care who delivers this baby!” she says just before another contraction hits her body.

  He takes stock of everything we’ve done to prepare so far and decides it looks good. He tells me to go get a shoelace and some scissors and drop them into the boiling water on the stove. No idea what the shoelace is for, but I don’t have time to question him. Tess is starting to push. Holy moly, this is really happening.

  I run to my room and grab a sneaker that I never wear. The shoelace looks brand new, so I quickly pull it out of the shoe and run to the kitchen. Jameson is in the living room, speaking to Tess in a soothing voice. I listen as I drop the items into the boiling water.

  “When you feel the contraction start, push as hard as you can. Don’t fight it,” he says. Tess nods her head and then starts pushing. Her eyes are squeezed shut, and her face is turning red.

  “Push, push, push.” Hannah cheers her on beside her. Tess is holding Hannah’s hand, a
nd Hannah is rubbing her head.

  “You’re doing great,” Tess’s husband says. She’s leaning back against him, perched between his legs. I snap a picture with my phone, making sure all necessary parts are covered. As crazy as this moment is, Tess will want to remember this.

  She lets out a loud yell, and Jameson lets her know she’s almost done.

  “Millie, go ahead and bring the shoelace and scissors,” Jameson yells. I grab some tongs, hold them in the boiling water for a minute, and then use them to remove the items from the water. I place them on a clean towel and carry them over to Jameson.

  “Get a towel ready,” Jameson says to me.

  A minute later, the baby is born. Jameson catches the baby with the towel in his hands. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen a child born into this world. I’m not going to lie. It was a little terrifying to watch, but it was also really beautiful. Tears fill my eyes, and I look around to see there’s not a dry eye in the entire house.

  Jameson places the baby on Tess’s chest, and I watch as she looks at her daughter’s face for the first time. Watching her, I wonder for the first time what it would be like to be in a relationship with someone you love so much that you decide that’s the person you want to raise children with. That you actually want to create a whole new person with them. It’s amazing. Nine months ago, this little girl did not exist, and now she’s here in the world, blinking and breathing.

  I’ve never felt anything close to that kind of love with anyone. I’ve never even said the word “love” to anyone other than Lo and my dad. Those words are huge and scary. After watching my mom walk out on my dad when I was ten years old, I wasn’t so sure that romantic love was real. Seeing Tess’s husband’s eyes light up after watching his rock-star wife deliver a baby in my living room, I think maybe it is real.

  The paramedics arrive just a few minutes too late and assess Tess and the baby. They declare both to be in great shape. They’re loaded up into the ambulance and taken to the hospital.

  Hannah declares herself to be exhausted and decides it’s time for her to head home to get some sleep. I must be riding some sort of adrenaline high. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep for several more hours.