Contract With the Devil

Epilogue

Epilogue

           The doctors were amazed that Granny lived another three months. Her only acknowledgement of the disease taking over her body was fatigue. She got tired easily and would doze in the middle of a conversation. She slept quietly away late one Saturday night surrounded by her family. My father came to say good-bye to his mother and ended up staying until two weeks after the funeral. We all enjoyed our time with her and each other. He fell in love with his five grandchildren. I would stand and watch the children playing on Granny’s porch. My two year old little brother fit right in with DJ. He was too rough for Carrie and the twins.

          My father liked the cottage. He stayed there for two weeks after the funeral. He and his son slept in Granny’s room and Betty in the other bedroom. My brother came by every day after work sometimes bringing the twins. I would sit on my deck and watch daddy and Jeremy talk for hours. A glow from my father’s pipe would glow in the dark as they talked. The aroma would drift across to the deck reminding me of that smell when I was a girl. David would often go and sit on the steps like he did when Granny was still with us.  

I grew big quickly. I was uncomfortable and tired easily. David wanted me to rest more so I worked a little from home, read romance novels and shopped online. Boy, did I shop. David seemed to enjoy coming home to hot home cooked meals. The children were all happy and healthy. For exercise, Angel and I would go to our strip center and walk around. Sometime we would take Carrie in her stroller. We had discovered a quaint resale shop. I discovered Angel had my passion for shopping. 

The Friday following Easter, I felt heavy and out of sorts. Angel wanted to make homemade ice cream. I waddled to the kitchen to help. By the time we finished, my back was aching.  I took David a bowl of ice cream and headed to the shower. The hot water felt good on my back. I scrubbed my skin until I could feel the glow.

In the bedroom David was watching a game. I put on a cotton maxi gown to cover my bulk. As I passed David, he pulled me into his lap. His hands felt good giving me a slow rub. A few minutes later I start to feel nauseated. David ordered me to bed and went to get a Sprite from the refrigerator. I fluff my pillows then drank half the soda. As I sat the can on my night stand, I felt a sharp pain in my back. Arching my back, I stretch and get into the bed. I try to focus on the game David is watching when I feel a contraction. Not alarming because I know contractions about now are part of the process. I am due to deliver in three weeks. I look at the clock not wanting to miss national evening news. I have five more minutes. Just as the news starts, I have another contraction. Five minutes more I have another. They are mild but timely. When the fifth pain in twenty-five minutes hits I tell David. He is not alarmed either but gets the baby oil and gives me a back rub. It feels divine. I lay on my side holding my belly while David’s hands gives me comfort.

I feel wetness on my hands realizing my water has broken. “David, honey my water just broke. I am having contractions every three minutes.” He reaches for the phone and calls 911. “I can walk to the car.” This feels like a replay from my pregnancy with DJ. I look in his eyes and see concern. “No, Quiana, I don’t want to take the chance. You aren’t in a lot of pain but this is moving awfully fast.” I want to argue but another contraction hits with pressure. He can feel the contractions as he holds and rubs my belly. David calls Betty at the cottage. In a few minutes I hear her ringing the bell. 

David lays down against my back. He kisses my hair and speaks quietly to me like he does Carrie when he is trying to comfort her. “It’s okay baby. They will be here soon. You are going to be fine very soon. Remember what Gran said. It will be quick without a lot of pain.”

I tense as another contraction flows through me. David presses tighter against my back as his hand rubs my belly applying just enough pressure. He feels the next contraction and kisses the back of my head rubbing with the same pressure I am very familiar with. This is too fast. “Shhh, baby.” The bell rings. David does not move. Betty lets the EMTs in. The room becomes full of activity. The squawking of a radio, rolling of a gurney, a tall blond guy in uniform asking questions rapidly. David reluctantly releases me and rolls off the bed. He kneels on the far side of the bed. He is holding my hand. I feel him press a soft kiss in my palm. He is replaced by an athletic built brunette female EMT. She turns me onto my back and raises my gown. She immediately sees what I have been feeling. I notice Betty lays white sheets and towels on the bed. My baby’s head is crowning. They are telling me to relax then get ready to push.  A lot of pressure and his head pops completely out. The female EMT has moved to the foot of the bed. She places white sheets under me.  I look over and into David’s eyes. He is looking into my eyes. He smiles and mouths I love you.

For just a second I try to panic but I look into David’s eyes again and see his love. It covers me like a warm soft blanket. I feel a gentle stroke of a hand along my face. No one is near my head on that side. It feels very familiar. There is no longer a need for panic. I realize it is my grandmother. I close my eyes and embrace the stroking as the room is filled with the sound of a wailing baby. I hear David say he has good lungs. The EMTs laugh. The stroking stops.  I feel the clip attached to the umbilical cord. David is given scissors to cut the cord. The male EMT has wrapped my baby in a white towel on the bed. He takes the scrumming bundle into our bathroom. David walks to the door and watches what is going on with his baby. Whatever is going on seems not to please my little one. He is wailing at the top of his lungs. David opens his arms just as the EMT hands him his baby. He lays him on his shoulder and starts to rub his back. Within seconds, the baby falls asleep. He missed Angel as a baby but has now been present for the birth of his three other babies. That thought reminds me I have not heard our other children. I take a deep breath and relax. Betty, I am sure, is taking care of the children. Angel has probably promised DJ and Carrie homemade ice cream if they behave. 

Tried and a little overwhelmed, I refused to go to the hospital. The baby is carefully checked and the female EMT works with me waiting for the after birth to pass. Betty has come in and gone into our bathroom. I watch her and David speak for just a minute. Betty worked for twenty five years as a nurse’s aide.

Finally the after birth passes and I collapse against my pillows too tired to think. David has gone to talk to the male EMT in the hall. I hear him say the name Jason David Lawrence and know he is naming our new son. The EMTs pack up, David rolls a bassinette into the room and Betty comes to the bed with sheets, towels and a basin of water. She gets busy cleaning me up. I see David taking Jason, a diaper and gown into the bathroom. I hear water running in the bathroom as Betty gently cleans me up and into a new clean gown.  She helps me sit in a chair while the bed is changed.

David brings Jason to me. He smells like baby heaven thanks to baby power and baby oil. His navy and white stripped gown is baby fashion chic. I sit back in the chair and hold him close to my heart. I rub his soft hair then count fingers and toes. I check the palm of his hand and his tiny fingers curl around my index finger. His cheeks are rosy and an aura of peace seems to surround him.  His eyes are dark brown but he has his father’s long curly lashes. I gently stroke one lash. David returns with a small bottle and a cap that matches the gown. He is definitely not a new father.

“Quiana, Jason is twenty-one inches long and weighs nine pounds and ten ounces.” He takes our baby and I return to bed. Betty returns with a cup of tomato soup and glass of orange juice. Smelling the soup, I am famished.  My body and mind crashes and I fall into a deep sleep after eating.

A couple of hours later, I lay in the bed and watched the wonder on the faces of my husband and children. “Daddy, he feels so soft,” Angel comments as she strokes his arm. Carrie leans on her daddy’s knee but does not seem sure about touching the baby. So in awe, she does not giggle but stares from Jason to her daddy and back.  “Daddy, you said not to wear a hat in the house,” DJ comments looking at the cotton cap that matches Jason’s gown. He is obviously not happy this new baby can wear a hat in the house. David smiles and strokes DJ’s face. 

Angel looks over at me and sees the tears cruising down my face. She crawls next to me and wipes my face and eyes with a towel on the bed. Finished, she lays her forehead against me. “Don’t cry mommy. It won’t hurt anymore.” I pull her closer to me and hold her tight. I am not in pain but my heart feels ready to burst. I hold Angel while Carrie gets the nerve to cautiously touch her baby brother’s bare foot. DJ rubs Jason’s head. Looking up he stares strangely at his father’s face. “Daddy, don’t cry. It won’t hurt anymore.” David looks at me and the tears run down his face in a heavy stream. I bury my face in Angel’s hair so she won’t see me cry. This is really a Kodak moment.    

Betty brings me chicken noodle soup and ice tea. The soup warms me and I am soon dozing again. My last memory is David taking pictures with his cell phone. I kind of remember waking for a moment in a warm, dark room as my husband was pulling me into his arms. I melted into his side feeling safe and loved. He tucks my head under his chin. He smells like baby powder. His lips were soft and warm as he peppered my face with kisses. “God, I love you so Quiana. I have not regretted one day contracting with you.”    

The End