“What’s wrong?” The words rush out of me and I rub the back of my neck, digging my nails into my skin as ice-cold shock washes over me. At the same time, it’s so damn hot in here. The sun is glaring down from the giant windows above us, making my head sweat.
Right now, though, I’m sweating for a purely different reason.
“Well, um, this is sort of weird for me to tell you since I don’t even know you, and I wanted the person on the phone to tell you this since he claimed he’s your brother-in-law, but …”
“Just spit it out,” I say, cutting her off.
“Right.” She nods multiple times, her head doing this weird little bobbing thing. “Your wife is in labor.”
Relief floods me at hearing the words. I’ve been on edge for months. Fable pregnant is a scary thing in itself, but it’s ten times worse when I’m not with her. She’s been by my side throughout most of her pregnancy, especially these last couple of months since the season ended. I’ve left for a few business things, including another endorsement deal I got and a team meeting we all were required to attend. She’s stayed mostly at home with Owen, who’s around quite a bit. He just finished his freshman year last week. He plans on taking a summer trip to Hawaii with his friends since he never went on a grad trip after his senior year of high school, but he’s not leaving until Fable has the baby. He’s sticking around for that because he’s a good brother.
And Fable would strangle him if he missed the birth of his niece.
“How long ago did the call come in?” I ask as I glance up at the clock on the opposite wall. I’ve been here for hours and now I’m more than eager to get home to my wife. I can’t miss her having this baby. She’d be devastated.
“A few minutes ago.” The assistant holds out her phone toward me. “Your brother-in-law asked that you call him back.”
Shit. I bet Owen is panicking right now. I know I would be if I were him. Fable wasn’t supposed to go into labor yet and she’s probably totally freaking him out. He’s still a teenager and the last thing he wants to deal with is his laboring sister, I’m sure.
Grabbing the phone, I dial Owen’s cell number, not surprised when he answers after the first ring. “Thank God you got the message.”
“Nice to hear your voice, too. Now let me talk to your sister,” I tell him.
“Dude.” Owen pauses for a moment and I can tell he’s walking. Exiting a room or something—I’m not sure, I can only imagine. “She’s been in labor for hours. I only just now convinced her to come to the hospital.”
“Wait a minute, hours?” I left the house only a few hours ago myself. What the hell? “Is she all right? Is she in pain?”
“She’s in labor. Of course she’s in f**king pain.” Owen blows out a harsh breath. “This shit is scary, man. You need to get back here quick. I think she’s going to have the baby soon. She’s screaming and yelling and cursing like you would never believe. I can’t handle it.”
“Well, get over yourself because you’re going to have to handle it until I get there.” I make a gesture at the photographer. “Hold on, Owen.” I place my hand over the phone. “I’m out of here. My wife is having a baby.”
Everyone starts clapping and whistling, and I go to the changing area to grab my bag. The assistant runs after me, calling my name and asking for the clothes I’m modeling, and I tell her I’ll pay for them as I exit the building.
“Sorry, dude, I had to get my stuff—I’ll be on the quickest flight home I can.” Fable’s at our Santa Clara house and so is Owen, awaiting the birth. “Are you at the hospital?”
“Hell yeah, we are. She wanted to stay at home until I finally convinced her I was going to freak if she gave birth on the carpet,” Owen mutters.
I can hear him telling her that, too. “Is her doctor there?”
“I guess so; I don’t know. She wouldn’t let me call you for the longest time. She said she didn’t want to disturb your photo session, which I thought sounded totally lame, but she told me you’re making a shit ton of money so I guess I shouldn’t give you any grief. But yeah. She said this photo shoot was like the most important thing ever right now.”
My girl, my wife, the mother of my about-to-be-born child, drives me absolutely frickin’ nuts sometimes. The most important thing is her and the baby. “How long has she been in labor?”
“You’re gonna kill me,” Owen says.
“Tell me, Owen.”
“Since this morning.” He pauses. “Before you even left, she said.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“I wouldn’t lie about something like this. You know it.”
Jesus. “And when did you get her to the hospital?”
“A couple of hours ago. About an hour or so after you left.”
She’s been laboring all morning. We were told at the birthing class that first babies tended to take a long time to get here. “Let me talk to her.”
“She’s gonna be pissed that I called you.”
“Does she expect to keep me in the dark about all of this? What’s the matter with her?” I shake my head as I head outside, thankful when I see the hired car that brought me here is still waiting by the curb. The driver slides out and comes around, opening the door for me before I get a chance to do it for myself. I climb into the backseat, the phone still clutched to my ear.
“Did she want to have the baby on her own without me there? Give me a break. Tell her I called you. Now get her on the phone.” I’m clutching the phone tight, gazing through the window and watching the giant industrial buildings pass by but not really seeing them. I don’t care about anything but Fable and the baby and that they’re all right. Nothing else matters, nothing’s important. All I can focus on is Fable and the fact that she’s about to have our baby.
And she wasn’t going to tell me? Really?
“Hello?” I hear her breathless voice and my knees wobble, thankful I’m already sitting down. I feel like a dumbass but I don’t care.
“Fable.” I blow out a harsh exhale and close my eyes. “Tell me everything’s fine.”
“Everything’s fine.” Her voice drops. “I’m in labor.”
“I know that, baby,” I say wryly. “And why didn’t you call me when this started?”