Paroled

Chapter 19

With about ten weeks left to go, Eva was tired and already over being pregnant. The baby assaulted her ribs and organs with his constant acrobatics, it was so often that she wondered if he ever slept and today was no different. She was on her way to the clubhouse with Opie's wallet that he'd left on the nightstand that morning. Her eyes were sleepy, dark circles underneath, and her face was pudgier but Opie thought she looked amazing as he greeted her at her car and helped her out with a bright smile on his face.

"Hey," he kissed her sweetly. "How you feeling?"

"Same as this morning," she shrugged. "How are you?"

"Good," he took her hand and pulled her with him toward the clubhouse.

"Where are we going?"

"Gemma's been asking for you," he explained.

Eva grimaced but kept following along. "Slow down, Winston," she chided.

"Sorry," he laughed. "I love the waddle," he teased.

"I'm not smiling," she grumbled, although he could see the corners of her mouth attempting to betray her. "Hey Ope," she said as she stopped walking.

"Huh?" He turned to look at her. "What's up?"

"I love you," she said, her voice not wavering as she expected it would. "I just, I didn't want to make a big deal about it, he's the big deal," she said, rubbing her belly, "But I want you to know."

Beaming, Opie leaned down and kissed her. "I love you too, I didn't know how to say it," he admitted awkwardly.

"You just did," she winked. "Come on Prince Awkward, let's go say hi." Eva was now leading him into the building and when she came to the end of the entryway hall she stopped dead in her tracks. "You know what I just said?" She asked Opie. "I take that shit back."

She was staring at a party, something thrown by Gemma and Tara, and she hated it but Eva kept a smile on her face.

"You don't like it?" Opie asked after hugs and hellos were over.

"I'm just shy," she shrugged.

"Sorry," he frowned.

"This was you?" She asked, taken aback.

"I know you feel shitty and I thought it would cheer you up."

Eva teared up and threw her arms around Opie. "You jerk," she said quietly. "I love it. That's so sweet."

"I didn't do anything I just talked to Gemma about something," he shrugged. "Don't need to ask her twice for a family party."

"Hey," Clay interrupted them to give Opie a hug. "Congratulations, Ope."

Eva watched as he hugged Clay back, a genuine smile on his face and, feeling someone approach, looked to her left to see Jax. He kissed her cheek and smiled warmly. "You hate it?"

"God, yeah," she admitted, "But he's such a fucking mush I love it at the same time."

"Oh, here," he pulled a tiny black piece of fabric from his pocket. "Kind of turned into a tradition after Abel was born. It's from the club."

Eva eyes him suspiciously as she unfolded it to see a their Reaper emblem on the front of what turned it to be a tiny baby beanie.

"Oh, Jax," she sniffled. "Thank you."

"Stop crying," he said, throwing his arm over her shoulder and giving her a squeeze. "I'm glad shit worked out, he used to be miserable most of the time, it was draining."

Wiping her eyes she laughed and nodded. "He's still miserable."

"Not as bad," Jax winked. "Here," he reached for the hat back. "I was supposed to give it to him first," he laughed.

Watching as Jax and Opie, best friends for their entire lives, bonded over an infant hat, Eva again felt herself begin to cry.

"Fucking hormones," she complained to no one. "This baby needs to hurry up and finish baking."

—

*8 Weeks Later*

"He's not ready," Eva whinnied as she shifted in the hospital bed. "He needs to stay in longer. Like a lot longer."

Tara tried not to smile. "Hey, it's scary, but we're made for this. You're gonna be fine!"

"Nope, this kid is gonna rip me in half and I'll never be the same," Eva said adamantly. "My vagina is gonna be torn to shreds and Opie won't love me. That's why he's not here."

"Jesus," Tara laughed. "The baby will not tear your vagina to shreds, Opie will still love you after this AND he's not here because he's on a run. He'll be back," Tara have Eva's hand a squeeze, "I promise."

"I'm sorry," Eva faked a laugh. "My anxiety is fucking unreal. I'm a tough bitch! I can push this baby out!" Eva said trying to pump herself up.

"That's the spirit," Tara laughed. "I have to do rounds I'll be back. Are you going to be alright?"

"I'm good," she said, "I think."

Tara winked at her before slipping out of the room and breathing a sigh of relief. She felt for Eva but she also needed a break, it was exhausting and completely unexpected. On her way up to the neonatal unit for rounds she gave Jax a call.

"How far out are you guys?"

"Couple hours," Jax said. "She okay?"

"She's freaking out," Tara said. "That attitude, that tough as nails feminist who punched Tig is long gone, Jax."

Jax cringed a bit. "Glad it ain't me there."

"Speaking of, is he freaking out?"

"Yeah," Jax sighed. "Feels guilty as fuck for taking the run."

"Well, hurry back, this human panic attack is his job."

Opie, Jax, Chibs and Tig did hurry back. They ignored the speed limits and sped toward Charming to get Opie to Saint Thomas. The four hours left on the ride ended up only being two and a half and when he arrived Eva was sleeping.

"I thought she was a mess?" He asked Tara.

"She was, until the epidural," Tara laughed. "She passed out within ten minutes."

He smiled sweetly watching her sleep, her expression more peaceful than he would have expected.

"She's okay though? Baby too?"

"They're doing great," Tara assured him. "The doctor won't be in until she's ready to push but the nurses are in a lot if you guys need anything."

"You're not gonna stay?" He asked with a chuckle.

Shaking her head with a stern expression, Tara headed for the door. "No way. Good luck, I'm sure I'll see you in the morning."

—

The sound of his infant's first cries instantly made Opie cry. He watched joyfully as they lifted Harrison 'Harry' Piermont Winston up for him and Eva to see.

"Congratulations!" The doctor said cheerfully.

"He's okay? He's good?" Eva asked as they wrapped the baby up and laid him on her chest.

"He's perfect," the nurse said. "9 pounds 8 ounces, 21 inches long!"

"Takes after his daddy," Eva joked as she looked up at Opie. "Can we do this? Look at him, he's so tiny and so perfect, can we handle this? We're gonna mess him up."

Opie nodded and, as he kissed the now sleeping infant's forehead, said, "We got this, babe."