“I can probably still walk,” Abby began to argue.

“No, do as I say,” Mel instructed. When she and Cameron had rolled her into the hospital and up the elevator to labor and delivery, they were expected. Mel asked a nurse, “Is Dr. Stone here yet?”

“Not yet, but he said he was coming right over.”

“If you can still reach him, tell him to put a wiggle in it—I think I’m going to find she’s in transition.”

“Will do,” the L&D nurse assured her.

In the birthing room there were two plexiglass bassinets, two warmers stocked with diapers so tiny they could fit in the palm of her hand, monitors and IV stands. Cameron and Mel cautiously transferred Abby to the bed. Mel pulled off Abby’s shoes. “I’m going to ask Cameron to help you get into a gown, Abby, while I change into scrubs. When we’re both changed, I’ll check you. How’s that?”

“Fine,” she said, rolling carefully into a sitting position on the bed. “Oh!”

“What, honey?” Cam asked her.

“My water! Oh God, I’m totally sitting in a puddle.”

“Then let’s change quickly, shall we?” Mel said, throwing her purse and bag in a corner out of the way and heading out of the room for a quick change. On her way toward the nurses’ lounge and locker room she said to one of the nurses, “We’re gonna roll in there. Get me the pediatric nurse and I’ll need some help until Dr. Stone arrives.”

“I’ve arrived,” she heard a voice say.

She turned and smiled at John Stone. “Great timing. Our patient is moving up on the docket, water just broke, and I haven’t even checked her yet.”

“But what do you think?”

“Nine or ten,” Mel said with a shrug. “She had a nice little personality shift just as we were arriving.”

“I’ll check her.” Then he smiled at the L&D nurse. “She’s got great instincts. Get your delivery team in there.”

The room became busy even before Cameron had helped Abby all the way into her gown. John Stone was waiting for her to ease back on the bed, snapping on a pair of gloves. People started filling the room—two pediatric nurses, a couple of labor-and-delivery nurses, the pediatrician arrived, and Mel was back by the time Abby’s knees were raised and John Stone was examining her. One of the nurses was monitoring fetal heartbeats. “What are you feeling, Abby?” John asked her.

“Pressure,” she said. “Low pressure. I think maybe I have to use the bathroom.”

John pulled out his hand, stripped off the glove and said, “Not anymore, Abby. Let’s break down this bed,” he said to one of the nurses. “Abby, there’s only a tiny strip of cervix left—you ready to push?”

“I could try,” she said.

“In a second or two, you’re not going to have to try.” No sooner said than she was lifting off the bed on pure instinct, bearing down. “There you go,” he said, grinning. “Mel, take the first one.”

“My pleasure,” she said.

The L&D nurses removed the bottom half of the birthing bed, rolled forward a table on which the delivery instruments and equipment lay under a sterile drape, and Mel and John shared the space at the end of the bed. Mel pulled a stool up to the front-row seat where she was rhythmically and systematically stretching Abby’s vagina around a growing crown of hair. She was telling Abby to push push push push push and, “Go ahead and rest for a minute.”

“I missed the epidural,” Abby said breathlessly.

“I know the feeling,” Mel laughed. “Ready to go again, Abby?”

Abby lifted slightly, Cameron assisting at her shoulders, and before even fifteen minutes had passed, Mel said, “Here we go, just one more,” and a baby came into her hands. While holding the baby in her lap, she deftly clamped and cut. “Ah. Ladies first.” And within moments she had moved out of the way for John Stone to take over, bringing the newborn up onto Abby’s chest. “Nice, very nice. Take a moment to rest and meet your daughter, then we have to do that again. Let’s dry her off, Cam,” she said, rubbing a soft towel over the baby’s tiny body.

“Is she big enough? Is she, Cam?” Abby asked. “She looks so tiny.”

“I’m guessing five pounds,” Cameron said. “What do you think, Mel?”

“I think she liked it in there. Look at those arms flail, listen to that voice. Oh, you two are going to be busy. Abby, have a quick look, sweetheart, then let’s get her warmed up and bring out her brother. Hmm?”

“I don’t want to let go of her,” Abby said.

“You’re going to get her right back. She just needs to be cleaned off, warmed up, diapered and swaddled. By that time, you’ll be counting fingers and toes on her brother.”

“Oh God, look at her, Cameron. How can I be in charge of something this tiny?”

He laughed. “You should get help from a pediatrician. How about that?”

“Why didn’t I just marry you when I had the chance?”

He leaned down and put a kiss on her lips and on the baby’s head. “I’m not going anywhere, honey.”

Abby and Cameron had less than two minutes to examine and fawn over their daughter, when a low groan came from Abby. That sound alone brought the pediatric nurse to the bedside, scooping up the baby to get her cleaned, weighed, measured and checked over by the doctor. As soon as the baby was cleared from her, John Stone said, “Go ahead and push when you’re ready, Abby. We’re going to bring this fella down and into the world.”

Just a couple of minutes later, Abby had another baby in her arms. Mel and Cameron were drying him off while Abby was cooing over him, touching him, kissing him. She didn’t even notice that the nurse was washing her up, that the field of birth was being cleaned and cleared away, the bed reassembled. It was only another fifteen minutes before Abby held their daughter while Cameron held their son.

“Your daughter is five pounds, two ounces and your son a strapping five-seven. Both of them eighteen inches. Nice work, Abby. You grew them into going-home-from-the-hospital weight. They’re beautiful,” Mel said.

Abby, holding her daughter close, looked up into Cameron’s eyes. She smiled. “We’re a family now.”

“Yeah, honey.” He leaned down to give her a kiss. “Thank you.”

Fifteen

There was a lot of commotion at the bar when Hope came in and announced to Jack, Paul and Dan that her third attempted eBay auction on the old church was under way and the bidding started high enough for her to actually sell the property.

“You are kidding me,” Jack said, astonished. “Do you know who to?”

“I’ve had a couple of contacts, asking for details. One is a minister who’s been teaching for the past few years and wants to get back in the pulpit and another is an artist who wants to live in the church and use it as a shop to make everything from stained-glass pieces to decorative candles. There’s one other—I have no idea who. It’s going to go by midnight next Wednesday.”

“I think Preacher’s watching it,” Jack said. “But I haven’t figured out that whole eBay thing yet.”

“Jack, it’s eBay-dot-com,” Dan said. “You can do this. If you need me to, I can come over to the house and show you.”

“I’m not so sure I want you to know where I live,” Jack said, wiping the counter.

Dan grinned. He liked that—some grief from Jack. Buddies ribbed each other, and if a guy liked you a lot, he hit below the belt now and then. “Maybe your wife could get you checked out on eBay. You could put in a bid, raise the stakes for Hope here.”

“Yeah, and end up with a church. Just what I need.”

Paul lifted his beer. “I hope whoever gets it needs a good builder for a remodel.”

“If you don’t get a contract on that church, it’ll take the new guy a year to put it right,” Jack said.

Rick listened to all this with half an ear. He didn’t really participate in the discussions at the bar. Each week he sat farther to the end of the bar so he wouldn’t be expected to say anything. The joke was on him, he thought. No one was in the mood to cajole him into being sociable anymore. Jack let him have his beer and before he was half through it, put a plate of food in front of him.

He’d trained this old town of his pretty well—he gave them an hour or so of glum silence once a week and now they didn’t pester him, asking him how he was getting along, et cetera.

Then it happened, as it always did. She came in. He could set his watch by her—five o’clock Friday night. He couldn’t really say whether she came to the bar other times, because he didn’t. Of course, he could change his schedule and avoid her. But no, he couldn’t make himself do that.

She looked so damn beautiful. All of eighteen. How could she look so pure and innocent when he knew she’d been having sex since she was fourteen? With him!

“Hey, Lizzie,” Jack called out. “Wait till you hear this! Hope’s got bidders on eBay for that old church!”

“No way,” she said, her smile beaming. She walked right up to the bar and stood between Dan and Hope, elbows on the bar.

“Way,” Hope said, pushing her glasses up on her nose. “I don’t think I’ll make a killing, but I might get it opened up again.”

Rick secretly admitted he’d started sitting at the end of the bar so he wouldn’t have to turn his head to look at her when she came in. Or when she left. He wanted to be absolutely sure she wasn’t even glancing around, checking to see where he was, and still manage not to even see him. She wasn’t. It was as if he was invisible.

“But will you get a minister to open it up?” Liz asked.

“With a little luck. But if you think about it, the most important thing is that it not look like a boarded-up old church anymore. Goddamn thing’s an eyesore.”

“Nice talk for the owner of a church,” Jack said.

“Ach, I’m just a broker. How was your high-school graduation, Lizzie?” she asked.

“Awesome,” she answered. “I wasn’t exactly valedictorian or anything, but I graduated on the honor roll. A miracle.” She beamed proudly.

“And you partied?” Paul asked.

“Sort of,” she said with a shrug. “There was a big open house at the school. Then there were some other open houses around town—I went to a few. Some girls and I had a sleepover.”

“Some girls?” Dan asked. “Shoot, what’s happened to this world? When I graduated high school, a long time ago by the way, there was an all-night party for boys and girls. And a lot of funny business.”

She giggled. “There was an all-night party, but I just passed on that. I hung out with my girlfriends.”

“Congratulations,” Jack said. He pulled a big envelope out from under the till and handed it to her. “Mel and I are very proud of you.”

“Oh, Jack! What’s this? You shouldn’t do this!”

“Lizzie, sweetheart, you showed ’em. You worked your tail off. That deserves a reward. You’re…what do they say now? You’re bad?”

She laughed at him. “I think that one’s over. You’re the bomb is still around—for people your age.”

Jack just shook his head. “Hard to keep up. I bet you’re glad the long haul is behind you.”

“For now. I’m working full-time all summer, then I start at College of the Redwoods in September.”

“Where are you working?”

“I’m checking groceries at Albertson’s Sunday through Thursday—all p.m.’s of course, since I’m new. And at Connie’s on Friday and Saturday.”