Chapter Twenty

Sage

Even in San Diego, leaves changed color and scampered across narrow lanes in soft ocean-scented breezes. Maybe they didn’t change as much as in Alaska, but you could feel it in the air. And in the change of light. Autumn.

It was late September, and our reindeer mate was big with child. Beautiful. His face and eyes lit with the joy of becoming a dad. He was also restless.

Cas and I took turns taking off work and sitting with him, comforting him, making sure he had everything he wanted. He was due any day, and we didn’t want him all alone if he suddenly went into labor.

Zevo, the manager of Animals, had recommended a midwife. We’d made a pact to go back to Animals at least once a week and celebrate the magical place that had brought us all together. In that time, Zevo had become a trusted friend. He had met his own fated mates at the club, and swore it was built on magical, sacred grounds.

We’d already had the midwife out twice to see Douglas’ progress, and were secure in her knowledge and bedside manner. She was on call for us night or day.

It was a nice warm day, and Douglas and I sat out on the patio we three had built ourselves over the summer. Douglas kept getting up and walking around the yard, saying he had to stretch his body, that it felt too confined.

I didn’t quite understand what he meant, but I kept a careful eye on him.

One of the trees we’d planted had grown quickly. Its leaves had turned gold and orange in the last week.

Douglas stared at it then turned to me. “This is such a pretty time of year. I’m glad our baby will be an autumn child.”

“I still think Autumn is a great name if she’s a girl,” I said.

“Yeah, me, too. But Cas has to be on board, too, and he’s leaning toward Matilda.”

“It’s because of that movie with Danny DeVito and that little girl that can move things with her mind,” I said.

“Yeah. He loves that movie. It will be one of the first movies he shows our kid, boy or girl,” Douglas said.

“For sure. He’ll have that kid memorizing it before they ever get to Sesame Street.”

Douglas swung his hands back and forth. A soft wind fluttered his shiny dark hair. “I can’t wait for all of it. Diapers. Bottles. Mashed-up baby food.”

“All the good times and all the messes.”

“Yep. You get it.” He threw his head back and took a deep breath. “I want it all. Everything that goes with having a kid. I don’t want to miss one second of it.”

“I’ll remind you you said all this when it’s the middle of the night and the kid is spitting up everything they just ate, on your shoulder after messing their diaper and you haven’t had any sleep.”

He chuckled. “I’ll simply hand her over to Cas at that point.”

“Good thinking. He’ll love that.”

Suddenly, Douglas clutched his stomach. “Oops!”

I jerked forward on the lounge chair, sitting up straight. “What is it?”

“The baby is really active. Just pressed hard on my bladder. I think I peed a little.”

“Easily fixed.”

Douglas looked confused, so I got up to help steer him to the bathroom.

“But I didn’t pee. I don’t think. But my pants still feel wet.”

I didn’t have to touch him. All I had to do was sniff the air around him and I knew. “Your water broke.”

“What?” His head popped up and he gawked at me.

“Your scent has changed.”

“Ew, sorry if it’s bad—”

“No. It’s great. It’s baby scent, all fresh and sweet and new. I can’t describe it more, it’s beyond words.” I clapped my hands. “Douglas, you’re having a baby!”

He froze, hand still on his stomach. “B-but I’m not ready.”

“Your body is.” I put my arm around his waist. “Come on. Let’s get you inside and into your birthing robe.”

In the bathroom, I helped Douglas out of his loose sweats and T-shirt. I put the clothes in the hamper and used a washcloth to clean him up then helped him into the robe. The robe was a special one, closed in front, open at the back.

All the while, Douglas muttered, “The baby is here? I’m not ready. We still need to decide on a name, and Cas isn’t here.”

I punched myself in the forehead. “Cas! I forgot about Cas! I need to call him.”

“Right,” Douglas said. “The baby can’t be arriving yet because Cas isn’t here.”

Quickly, I tied the robe in back, but Douglas’ pretty ass still hung out. Which was fine because that was what it was supposed to do, hang out free and in the air so the baby could come out unimpeded.

“Okay, you’re good,” I said, patting his back. “Go get on the birthing mat.”

“You’re coming with me, right?” Douglas looked scared.

I leaned in and kissed his forehead. “Of course. I’ve just gotta find my phone.”

Douglas looked unsure. “I’ll wait right here for you.”

“Go on, sweetie. Everything’s there that we need.”

He moved forward, dragging his feet, then hunched over. “Ow.” He panted. “Wow, that takes my breath away. The baby is hurting me.”

“That’s a contraction, sweetie.” I put my arm around him. “Okay?”

“Yeah. It’s gone now. I’ll go sit down.”

We’d constructed a birthing mat with a wooden frame and set it on the floor of our bedroom at the foot of the bed. It was waterproof and soft. There were rails on the frame to grab and lots of pillows.

Douglas headed straight for it while I ran through the house and out to the patio looking for my phone. Finally, I found it on the table by my iced tea. I grabbed it and called Cas. It rang and rang.

“Pick up, wolf,” I muttered, running back into the house.

I hung up and called him again. More ringing. I jogged down the hall and through the door to the bedroom only to see Douglas sitting smack in the middle of the birthing mat, phone to his ear.

“Yeah,” he was saying. “Please come home fast. I already had one contraction and Sage left me to go find his phone. It wasn’t nice, being left alone. Please hurry.”

“Hey!” I shut off my phone and sauntered up to the mat. “I’m here, sweet omega. I wouldn’t leave you.”

Douglas looked up at me, wide-eyed. “He’s back and he has his phone now. Yeah? Okay. I’ll tell him.” He pulled the phone back from his ear. “Cas says you need to call the midwife.”

“I was going to,” I argued. “After I called Cas. But he didn’t pick up.”

Douglas shot me an evil grin. “That’s ’cause he’s talking to me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, don’t say such bad things about me. I didn’t leave you.”

“Did, too.”

I frowned and turned away, calling the midwife while Douglas, now seeming perfectly normal, chatted with Cas.

The midwife was calm as she told me what to do. I hung up and turned to Douglas. “We need to time between your contractions.”

“Is she coming over now?” Douglas asked.

“Not yet. She says it will be a few hours. Maybe longer.”

“Longer?” he shouted. “I can’t do longer.”

“Don’t worry. Cas and I will be here. We’ll take care of you.”

His shoulders slumped, head down. “Hmph.”

About fifteen minutes later, Cas came running through the door yelling, “Don’t have the baby without me!”

When he came around the corner and into the bedroom, he stopped up short. Douglas and I sat side by side on the mat playing a video game on the bedroom TV.

He ran a hand through his hair. “This is what I rushed home for? Was it a false alarm?”

“Nope,” I said. “It just takes babies a little while to get here, but she or he is on their way. Douglas’ contractions are ten minutes apart. He had another one about five minutes ago.”

“Yeah,” Douglas said. “And it sucked.”

Cas dropped his blazer in the chair then knelt at the base of the birthing mat frame. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Goddess help me, I’m going to be a dad.”

I reached out and patted the top of one hand. “You’re going to be the best dad, Cas. But if it’s the daughter we think we’re having, her name is going to be Autumn, not Matilda.”

He sat back on his butt, eyebrows lowered. “Well, damn.”

“Wait.” Douglas froze the game. “We didn’t come up with a middle name yet. How about Matilda for that?”

Cas’ head came up and he smiled wide. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Douglas looked at me. “Okay?”

I nodded. “Perfect.”

We got a third control for the video game and Cas joined in. Over the next ten hours, we timed the contractions.

Douglas took two short naps, waking more and more impatient.

Finally, late at night, Douglas appeared to be in active labor. We called the midwife again. She arrived quickly and examined him.

“The baby’s coming,” she said. “Maybe an hour. Maybe less.”

Douglas cried out as another contraction overcame him. Cas and I held him on either side.

When it was time for him to push, he insisted on getting onto his knees. He clung tightly to us as the baby began to crown. It was a miraculous sight, seeing our baby born. When she finally slid from his body, we cheered as Douglas groaned.

Douglas then said, “Is it done. Is our baby here?”

“Yes,” Cas said.

“You did a great job,” I added.

“It’s a girl,” the midwife announced.

“We got our daughter.” I kissed Douglas all over his face.

The midwife cleaned the baby and wrapped her. Douglas turned, towels still stuffed between his legs, and held out his hands. “My baby. Our baby. She’s beautiful.”

He cradled her to his chest, cooing.

Cas and I leaned over and joined in the mindless sounds of joy. Meeting our child for the first time was an event of a lifetime. I’d never forget it.

I couldn’t stop staring at her. I touched her forehead and cheek with my finger. “Her skin is so soft.”

“Hello, Autumn Matilda,” Douglas said, kissing her on the other cheek.

The midwife laughed. “Wow, that’s a mouthful.”

She was right, of course.

And what was even more right, Cas ended up getting his way. Even though Autumn was her first name, by day two, we all started calling her Matti.

What a world. What a life. This was our world now. Our life. Our family. And I wouldn’t have traded it for all stars and all the worlds in existence.