Clint
As I wait in the ER waiting room for Nora to get stitched up, I can't help but wonder about her. She has been on my mind since I met her. She is an enigma wrapped up in a paradox.
Clumsy yet superbly skilled.
Independent yet trusting.
Everything about her screams contradiction. She didn't flinch at the knife in the throat yet warned me against killing. She keeps secrets yet spills words like a fountain. Telling you everything and yet nothing at the same time. Curious yet deliberately refrains from knowing my name. I am still not sure what that is about. She knows nothing about me really. She knows I own a security company but not what that entails. She knows I have special training, but not what kind-it's classified anyway.
We will explore what is between us. I already know if I just persist she gives in. I will just persist into her life until she accepts it. But first, a date.
Two years later.
"Nor? Have you seen my keys?" I hear her yell back from somewhere in our house. It is in a neighborhood with big lots and trees, winding snake-like roads that lazily take you around and around. The house numbers are single or double digits. The lawns require a riding lawn mower which most people here have. Everybody takes pride in maintaining their own lawns. There is no homeowners association but there is an unspoken standard that none of us would fall below. I am looking in my walk-in closet that is the size of Nora's old bedroom area organized by Nora, by style and color starting with the everyday things and working back to formal wear. She rounds the corner holding my keys, smirking.
"Where were they?" I ask.
"In the tray by the door, I can see why you had such a hard time finding them." She responds snarkily .I take them from her and lean down to kiss her.
"If you would stop moving them from where I put them, I wouldn't have trouble finding them." I say back.
"If you would put them where they are designated to go, I would not have to move them to their designated spot." She breezily retorts as she waddles out of the closet into the bathroom area. She is dressed in her favorite attire for the past two months, leggings and a loose shirt. This one is salmon colored and made of that material that clings and flows. It is continually falling off her shoulder. She looks miserable like the kid will make an appearance any minute but the due date is still two weeks out.
"Don't forget, Doctor's appointment today at 3:15." She throws over her shoulder.
I harrumph. I have not forgotten an appointment yet. She is the one that forgets appointments. Pregnancy hormones she says. She also blames pregnancy hormones for her new level of clumsy which could be true but I think she is milking it.
Nora not only went on a date with me, she married me 6 weeks later in Vegas with Troy, Sally, Jeremy, Shirlene, her Grammy and several of my dudes in attendance. She quit working for John at the bond office and works for me at Westwood Security. She has been a welcome addition. Not only do I get to see her everyday, my office has never been so organized. Most of my guys which she lovingly calls "dudes" because she can't call them goons. Speaking of goons. I found Mike the day after Valentine's day and convinced him he wanted to move his storage to a different town. He did not hesitate to move his operation. I bought the warehouse from him and turned it into a practice area for our training. The dudes need to keep sharp. Nobody has made it through the training set up with a score higher than Nora's. I came close but she said since I used my gun she beat me. She made it all the way through incapacitating everyone without firing her weapon in the fastest time of any of us. She is lightening with zip ties. One of the many reasons why I am thankful I am on her good side.
I walk into the kitchen to get some coffee and whatever awesome smelling food Nora is cooking. I have converted her to a coffee snob as she calls it. She is pickier than me now.
"Maybe the brat will let us know the gender this time." She says. She really wants to know. I don't care one way or the other. I can handle the surprise.
"I want to know what to call him/her. I feel like a name is necessary at this point." She says to the pancake grill. I raise my eyebrow at her.
"Just because I didn't want to know your name on VALENTINE's day does not mean this," she paused to rub her protruding belly, "munchkin doesn't need one now."
"He is not even breathing air yet, I think he can wait." I point out
"He?" She asks.
"Facts, he is rough, keeps you up at night. It is a boy." I state firmly.
"Oh really, so you are saying that a girl can't be rough and tough, that a girl is going to keep you up at night when she starts driving or dating?" I can feel the color drain out of my face when she mentions my little girl dating.
"She is not dating until she is 35." I say through clenched teeth.
"We'll see." she smirks, "She will have her big, bad daddy wrapped around her finger in less than a minute." she predicts. Oh Fu..dge. We are not having a girl.
"Crap! Crappity crap crap crap!" She screams. I pull myself out of the nightmare of a teenage daughter dating to look at Nora who is holding the kitchen counter slightly bent over.
"What?" I ask.
"My water just broke." she says rather calmly. It takes a moment for that to register.
"Okay, we know the drill, I will get your bag then we will calmly go to the car and get ourselves to the hospital, no problem." I pull out my phone as I am walking to the bedroom to grab her bag.
Me: water broke
Shane: Need me to call a plumber
Me: no dumbass--water broke, the baby is coming
Shane: Oh shit. Meet you there
Shane is one of my dudes. He is my number one, right hand man dude. He and I started this thing together. He adores Nora. He talked her into naming him the godfather. We aren't even Catholic.
Me: water broke
Troy: on my way
Me: water broke
Grammy: Alright. It is the first child, it will probably be awhile. You have time.
Me: water broke
Sally: Meet you at the hospital
I grab the pre packed bag and head back to the kitchen to help Nora to the car.
"Get some towels." She orders. "I don't want to get the car all nasty." I walk back to the bathroom to get some towels. I turn around to almost run into her.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Changing my clothes, these are soaked and gross."
"Nora."
She turns and says with a growl that had to have come from the depths of her chest, I think her eyes are even turning red, "Don't Nora me. I. am. Changing." I hold up my hands in surrender and watch her struggle out of her wet leggings. I am not about to help, I like all my body parts attached. She pulled on a long t-shirt dress that barely stretches over her stomach and slips her feet into flip flops. She lets out what can only be called a roar and bends over holding her stomach. This cannot be good. Grammy said she would take awhile this does not look like taking a while to me.
I put one arm under her knees and the other at her back and lifted her. We get to the car before she roars again. How far is the hospital again? I strap her in the car and see Tank barrelling out the door.
"No Tank. You stay here." I order right as Nora lets out another yell. Tank whines and pushes me to the door.
"Fine." I say, "but you can't go in the hospital. You will be miserable out in the car." Tank jumps in and I run to the driver's side. I am not even to the end of the driveway when Nora lets out another scream. These are not very far apart.
"How far apart are they?" I asked but only got a glare in return. I navigate out of the neighborhood and get about another mile down the road when Nora yells, "Stop the car, I need to push!"
"Nora." I say calmly. "Just don't push. We are almost there. Just hang on."
She swings her left arm nailing my chest with a blow that causes my breath to whoosh out.
"STOP. THE. CAR." she bites out. I pulled over, jumped out, ran over to her side opened the door and helped her out of the front seat and into the back.
"Can you see the head?" she asks. I am sure I turned green. I don't want to look. This is not happening. I look. There is a head. I can feel my eyes roll back but catch them. I can do this, blood is not a problem I have seen many things that top this on the gross scale.
After a mere five pushes, I am holding the most precious baby boy on the planet. He is screaming his head off. That is a good thing right. I hold him up wrapped in one of the towels Nora insisted I bring and place him on her chest right as the placenta comes out. I hold back the vomit that threatens to spew forth. I gotta cut the cord right.
"Nora, give me a zip tie." I say. She moves her gaze from the baby to me in confusion.
"What?" she asks
"I need to cut the cord. I thought I would tie it off with a zip tie then cut it." I say like it is the most normal thing in the world to cut the umbilical cord on the side of the road after your wife gave birth.
"In the side pocket of the bag." She says. I knew she would have a zip tie. I get that done and use the rest of the towels to clean up the car as best I can. Nora is sitting up holding the boy with Tank hovering protectively.
I drive the rest of the way to the hospital where everyone is waiting. They are not unsurprisingly surprised that our baby is already here.
Everyone is healthy and we are back at home in no time.
I settled Nora and the baby in the bed before cleaning up the dinner dishes. I slip in beside her puting my arm around her pulling her against my side. I smile at her. She smiles at me.
"Harrison." She says.
"What?" I say not following.
"His name. It is Harrison." She says.
"Did he tell you this?" I ask with a chuckle.
"Yes." she said not chuckling. Then I remember the story of how Tank got his name and I nod.
"Harrison Jack Westwood." I offer up the middle name. The baby turns his head to me. Well, what do you know. I looked at Nora in surprise. She just shrugged.
Meet our son, Harrison Jack Westwood born on February 14." It seems the Valentine's day curse has taken a turn for the better.