My hands clench. “Jasper! Stop watching TV! My mucus plug is out!”
His face scrunches up with disgust; then realization dawns. He jumps up, and his Cheetos and Pop-Tarts tumble to the floor. Cherry snatches some of it and darts off down the hall. I would chase her down, but this feels a little more important.
He rakes both hands through his long hair. “Shit! Call Darden. Call Brogan and Cece! Call the cousins! That’s my job when you go into labor. Right?”
“Calm down, and yes. I called Tuck, and he’s not answering.”
“What? How could he not be answering? He’s in charge! Are you okay?”
I nod. Thankfully, I was in the shower when it happened, and there wasn’t a mess to clean up.
He wrings his hands. “What’s a mucus plug anyway? Are you sure you’re in labor? You had those fake contractions last time—”
“It’s a wad of gooey stuff that’s been protecting my cervix.”
He pales. “Cervix?”
I demonstrate with my hands like Dr.Lovell showed me. “The cervix is the door to the uterus, and when the plug comes out, it means the door is opening for the baby.” I don’t have time for an anatomy lesson, but every man should know the wonderful, complicated parts of a woman.
He gags. “Was it gross?”
“Nothing about my baby is gross,” I call out.
A contraction starts, new, and I groan as it ripples over my body. Breathing through it, I try to time it as I jog back to the bedroom and change out of my robe for joggers, a soft thermal, and a cardigan Tuck picked up one day while out shopping with me for maternity clothes. I stick my feet in flip-flops, then think better of it and put on Converse. I wince as the contraction continues. That was at least over sixty seconds.
Stalking around the penthouse, I try Tuck’s cell again. Still no answer, but I hear a buzzing in the hall bathroom. I pop in and stop. “Well, at least I know why he isn’t answering.” I grab his phone.
Jasper comes flying out of his room, hair tamed, dressed in Pythons gear. “Got the bug-out bag. I left him a text to meet us at Saint Mary’s.”
“Yeah, I read it. He left his phone at home.”
Another wave hits, and Jasper pants with me. Labor is coming soon.
“That’s it; breathe, Francesca, breathe.”
“I want Tuck,” I growl. “You’re supposed to tell me you love me, how beautiful I am, and how wonderful our life will be.”
“Do you want me to?”
“No! It’s not the same,” I call out, then waddle to the den and grab the bag by the door.
Jasper grunts and takes it from me and slings it over his shoulder. “How long are they apart?”
“Maybe five minutes? I don’t know. I’m trying to time them in my head, and Tuck was supposed to be here for that part. When they hit, I just hurt.”
He whips to me. “Five minutes! We have to go. Right now!”
“That’s what I’ve been saying!”
He escorts me out the door and into the elevator. We stop at my floor, and Darden gets on, a spring in his step. He cackles as he takes in my red face and damp hair. “Looking mighty pretty today, MissLane. Being pregnant with an eggplant suits you.”
I stick my tongue out at him. “Where’s everyone?”
Darden nods. “Called Brogan, and he’s en route. He was in a summer class. Cece and Lewis popped out for breakfast. They’re also coming.”
I pant. “All right.” I glance up, then smack at Jasper’s hand. “Put your phone down and stop videoing. You are not the moviemaker of this event, no matter what you’ve been asking.”
“You’re flush with womanhood, and you’re bringing baby Jay into the world. Someone needs to commemorate it for prosperity whenshe becomes an Olympic volleyball player,” Jasper replies but sticks his phone back in his pocket.