by Julie S.

Grace was tired of being pregnant. She had an enormous stomach always getting in her way, especially when she was doing the one thing that she loved: cooking. She couldn’t properly run the café anymore; she’d had to hire someone to take instruction from her all day.

“Dr. Mike, how much longer till this baby is born?” Grace asked in her Southern drawl. “I don’t know if I can take much more a’ this!”

Michaela knew how she felt. “Grace, I know that nine months can seem to last for…” “Ten years?” Grace said in her exasperated tone. Michaela stifled a laugh, remembering her own words to Sully several years ago.

“The baby should come in the next two to three weeks,” Michaela said as Grace began to put on her coat. “But Grace, please, listen to me. For these next two weeks, you need to be very careful. And I know you’re not going to like what I have to say, but…”

Grace held up a hand, turning her face away from her closest friend. “Dr. Mike, don’t you tell me I can’t work. I ain’t neva been able to go a day without bein’ in that café, and I ain’t about to start now.” Grace began to walk out of the clinic, but Michaela placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

“Grace, there is no room for argument. You absolutely cannot work for the next two weeks. In all honesty, I would rather that you not have been working for the past month or so, but I know what your work means to you. However, with this baby being this close to being born, and with your difficult history in this area, I strongly advise you to stay home, going out as little as possible. Take this opportunity to prepare for the baby instead of working too hard. Doctor’s orders.”

Grace sighed, seeing that Michaela would not budge. Maybe she was right. Grace had been feeling quite tired lately, and she couldn’t move with the same agility as she had eight months ago. And the baby’s room wasn’t yet finished; it still needed the touches of home, like the quilt that Grace had yet to piece together. With a look of reluctance, Grace nodded and smiled.

The door to the clinic flew open and in stepped Robert E. “Dr. Mike, Grace, I’m sorry I missed the appointment. Mr. Jameson had me doin’ some extra work on his saddle, an’ I just couldn’t leave…”

Grace placed her index finger over Robert E’s mouth. “Robert E., it don’t matter!” she assured him. “Dr. Mike just says that we got about two weeks, and I gotta stay at home.”

Robert E. looked at Michaela, a concerned look in his eyes. “She on bed rest?” he asked. “Ain’t that serious?” Michaela shook her head. “There comes a time during pregnancy when a woman just needs to slow down and rest. After all, you’re going to be quite tired in a few weeks!”

Grace and Robert E. thanked Michaela and walked out into the bright midday sunshine. Robert E. helped Grace step down onto the street and guided her to their home. They walked silently, each soon-to-be parent lost in their own thoughts.

Robert E. had never been more nervous in his life. Even though Grace hadn’t had any difficulties in her pregnancy, he was still worried that, with all of the struggle it had taken to get pregnant, something could still go wrong. But he couldn’t focus on that now. He had to get ready to be a father, and to support his wife through the next few months, which would undoubtedly be the most tiring of their lives.

Grace couldn’t believe that she was actually going to have a baby. For so many years, she and Robert E. had been trying to get pregnant. There had been so many times when she had thought she was with child. A missed monthly here, some nausea there. But in five years, as much as she had prayed and hoped and prayed some more, she had never experienced that feeling, the one where a woman just knows that there is a life inside of her, something precious, created from love. She and Robert E. had loved Anthony with all of their hearts, and he was as much of a son as any child that would have grown inside of Grace, but something was different now. Grace finally felt full, as though her life was complete.

As Grace and Robert E. walked through the door to their home, Grace took it all in. Now that she was finally able to relax, maybe she could look at the little things in her life. Like the wallpaper in the living room. She had never noticed that it had small blue flowers alongside the purple ones. And these floors! The wood was the same color as Grace’s favorite pair of shoes. Robert E. had mentioned once that when she walked across the floor in those shoes, it looked like her dress was floating above the ground, supported by air. She had discounted it as a silly comment, but now she understood. Why hadn’t she taken the time to look for these things earlier? Was it because she had always been rushing to fill someone else’s wishes? To serve someone else? Well, now was her time. Time for Grace to treat herself like one of the customers in her café: with respect and care.

“Robert E., I’m tired, I think I’ll take a nap,” Grace said with a yawn. Robert E. nodded and helped his wife change into a nightgown and settle into the bed that they had shared for so many years. Before Robert E. left, he sat on the edge of the bed and sang Grace the lullaby that she had sung to the Cheyenne baby when it was in their care. Grace drifted off to sleep, and Robert E. crept out of the room and back to the livery to tend to the horses.

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Being pregnant tended to make Grace very hungry, and she often found herself cooking for herself more than others. She arose and walked to the kitchen, her favorite place in the home that she and Robert E. had earned through hard work. Grace surveyed the cabinets and decided to make an apple and peach pie. It was a combination unlike any that she had made before, but she had such a craving for the two tastes together. Removing the apples from the cabinet, Grace didn’t know why, but all of a sudden she felt like she was spinning. In fact, it felt like the whole room – no, the whole world – was spinning. She sat down in the overstuffed armchair and waited for the spell to pass.

As she sat back and inhaled deeply, she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. She cried out in pain and doubled over, falling to her knees in front of the chair. The pain was unbearable. Tears began to stream down Grace’s face, and try as she might, she couldn’t make a sound. Not even a cry for help, a shout to let someone know that she was in such pain.

Grace knew that she had to get to Dr. Mike. She slowly turned to face the chair from which she had fallen and placed her hands on the cushion. As she began to push herself upward, she stopped short. Why did her hands feel sticky and wet? Grace knew before she even turned her palms to face upward. She knew that they would be red, and not from having clenched them so hard when the pains began.

Grace allowed herself to fall backwards, landing in a crumpled heap on the floor. She tore at her blood-soaked skirts, ripping them from the bodice of her dress and heaving them across the room. Lying on the beautiful hardwood floors, Grace wept uncontrollably, crying more for her lost child than for herself.

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Grace awoke with a start, wiping away the sweat and the tears. She felt her midsection and breathed a sigh of relief, shuddering from the aftermath of the sobs that had racked her body during the nightmare. This wasn’t the first time she had had the dream. However, that time, it had felt more real than ever. She had actually felt pain, felt like something was leaving her body.

Grace rose from her bed to get a drink of water but stopped dead in her tracks when she realized that the back on her nightgown was soaked. Raising her hands to her face, she began to cry again. Had the dream been a reality again? Was she going to turn and see the sheets on the bed soaked in the color of evil? Knowing that she had no choice, Grace slowly turned around, keeping her eyes straight ahead. She then allowed her head to tilt forward, facing the bed from which she had just risen.

There was no color except white on the bed, but the fitted sheet had a translucent quality to it, indicating that the sheets were as wet as Grace’s nightgown. As the first contraction rendered Grace speechless, though she wanted to shout for help. She was in labor, and there was no one here to help her.

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Michaela began to pack up her belongings for the day. It had been a long one, and she was ready to return home and climb into bed. Hopefully, Sully wouldn’t mind heating up the stew that she had cooked the previous day, because she was not in the mood to make dinner. As Michaela scanned the clinic before walking out the door, she noticed a small packet of tealeaves sitting on the side table.

Michaela groaned inwardly, remembering that she had told Grace to drink them every night before bed to calm her frequent nausea. Michaela debated whether or not to take them to Grace, realizing that she was spending more time thinking about doing it than it would actually take.

Locking the door of the clinic, Michaela stepped out into the street and in the direction of Grace and Robert E’s home. As she got closer, she realized that there were noises coming from within. It sounded like a woman was screaming, the kind of screaming that comes from pain. Michaela ran at full speed towards the house, praying that the door was unlocked. Turning the doorknob, Michaela threw open the door and dropped her belongings throughout the house, dashing towards the crying.

Grace lay on her bed, writhing with pain. She thought that the sight of Michaela’s face, the sound of her voice, were nothing more than hallucinations of things she wished she could see and hear. However, when Grace felt herself being turned from her side onto her back, she breathed a sigh of relief. Calming slightly, Grace looked into the eyes of her friend and doctor.

Michaela smiled. “It’s a good thing you left your tealeaves at the clinic,” she said jokingly. “Or I never would have come over here this evening.”

Grace wiped away her tears as another contraction set in. Now that Dr. Mike was here to help, she wasn’t so scared, didn’t feel as much pain.

“Grace, how long have you been in labor?” Michaela asked.

“Bout…an hour…or so,” Grace said through clenched teeth. “But my water…my water broke…when I…when…when I was sleepin’.”

Michaela smiled once again. “I can see the head, Grace. That means it’s time to push.”

Grace grimaced, knowing that this meant more pain. However, the sooner her child was born, the sooner she could be happy.

Grace braced herself, ready to push with all her might. One…two…three…four… Gasping in pain, she fell back against the pillow. She could see Dr. Mike’s mouth moving, telling her to push, but she couldn’t hear any sounds. Sucking in her breath and bracing herself once more, Grace pushed with every ounce of her strength. The next sounds she heard were the most beautiful in the world: the cries of her newborn.

As Michaela cleaned off the baby, Grace began to cry herself, but this time from happiness. After all these years, she had a child of her own, a baby that had been created from the love that she and Robert E. shared.

Footsteps pounded on the front porch, and in rushed Brian.

“Ma, I saw ya runnin’ over here and I didn’t know what was goin’ on, so I called to Robert E., he’s on his way…” Brian trailed off, due to a mixture of breathlessness and taking in the sights. Before he could say another word, the voice of Robert E. pierced the silence.

“Grace!!! I’m comin’ Grace, I’m comin’!!!” Robert E. flew past Brian, almost tripping over Michaela’s coat, which lay strewn over the threshold of the bedroom. Stopping quickly, Robert E’s jaw dropped at the sight of his wife holding a baby.

“It’s a girl, Robert E. We have a beautiful daughter. At last, we have our baby.” Grace beamed from ear to ear, her husband soon matching her visage.

As Michaela and Brian quietly left the house, Grace and Robert E. stared lovingly at the addition to their family, more grateful for life than either had ever known was possible.

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