“Come on, Dorothy,” one of her classmates calls, passing Dorothy to get seated in the auditorium.
“You good?”
She grins at me. “I’m okay.”
I glance at my watch. “I’m going to watch from here so I can close my standing ring before you.”
“Jerk.” She frowns, pivoting to head into the auditorium.
I grab her gown, giving it a tug to stop her. Then I wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on her shoulder, my hands over hers on her belly. “Dorothy Mayhem,” I whisper, “I am so proud of you. You are the universe. Unequivocally the kindest human I have ever known. Thank you for choosing me. This lifetime … with me. I love you.”
Her head tips back against mine. “I think I love you too.”
“Okay.” I kiss her cheek one last time before letting her go.
* * *
Three days later, I take my Dorothy to the hospital at three in the morning, when her contractions get too close for comfort.
Only … we don’t make it there.
“Now, Eli.” She shoots me a wide-eyed glance, ten minutes from the hospital. Her hand slides up her skirt. “Eliii!” She closes her eyes, holding her breath. “I feel the head. Eli!”
“Okay, babe. We’ve got this. No big deal.” I pull over on the side of the road.
“It burns!” She grunts, scrunching her face. “It is a big deal!”
I call for an ambulance.
“I’m going to move you to the backseat.” I hop out, run around the car, and lift her from the front seat to the backseat.
“Eli!” She tucks her chin and pushes. “Oh god! Call an ambulance before this baby falls out onto its head! Eli … she has my genes. We can’t let her fall on her head too!”
“Dorothy Mayhem …” I grab her hand, interlacing our fingers and squeezing until she gives me her eyes. “I know I’m not your favorite doctor … but I’m nonetheless a doctor. I called the ambulance. They’ll be here soon. In the meantime … we’ve got this. I’ve got you. I’ve got Violet.”
I slide off her panties, prop up my phone with the light illuminating Violet’s crowning head. “She has a head of dark hair.”
“H-how can you be so fucking CAAALLLMMM?” Her face contorts with another contraction as she pushes.
I know she’s in pain. But my Dorothy has never been so beautiful. “I’m calm because I’m getting ready to deliver our baby. And you are the strongest person I know. So let’s do this. Let’s meet Violet.”
Dorothy opens her eyes, tears running down her cheeks as she nods. “Thank you,” she whispers between contractions on a labored breath.
“For what?”
“For letting me be me. Letting me be enough.”
My own emotions burn my eyes. “You’re welcome.”
“Ouch … it’s coming … it hurts. ELI!”
“Push, Dorothy … you’ve got this.”
She pushes once, twice … and on the third push Violet’s head is out.
“Stop, baby. Take some short breaths. Try not to push. The cord is around her neck.” I feel for the cord, it’s tight but not too tight. “Okay. Give me another big push.”
Dorothy yells and Violet slides out. I unwrap the cord from her neck, and just as the ambulance’s lights illuminate behind us, Violet lets out her first cry. It’s a bit weak with a gurgle, but it’s her first breath, and nothing since Roman taking his first breath has ever sounded so beautiful.
“My baby …” Dorothy reaches for Violet as several people crowd around the vehicle.
I can’t even speak, I’m so fucking over the moon as I hand Dorothy our daughter.
It’s funny how a year can change your world. And it’s amazing how a single breath can take a life, give a life, and sometimes … save a life.
She is my breath of life.
* * *
Dorothy
Three weeks later …
We brought Violet home from the hospital two days after Eli delivered her in the back of my Q5. I really should have gotten the Q7.
Home … well it’s his house off Skyline Drive. And our weekend home is forty-five minutes away, with a huge yard, a trampoline, and two emus. Gemma travels back and forth with us. And my parents spend more time sitting together on the sofa with me not there as much.
I’m a homebody. A creature of habit. I like the familiar. And Eli respects that. He honors every little quirky thing about my personality. My need for space. My need for expressing my emotions in emojis and sorting them in piles and piles of brightly colored journals.
“Julie is coming over.” Eli frowns as he comes down the stairs from putting Violet down for a nap. He sets the monitor on the coffee table.
“She’s just dropping off Roman. What’s the long face about?” I ask.
We have a great relationship with Dr. Hathaway. And all the guilt I thought I’d feel over Eli giving up having Roman full-time was for nothing. Roman is a thriving young boy because all of us have worked hard to make sure he feels an abundance of love and sense of family.