Nanny Diaries

Chapter 32 - Little Bundle

“Breathe, Lauren! Breathe.” Shelby coaxes in my ear, holding my hand as the limo speeds down the freeway to the hospital. As the contraction diminishes, for now, I turn to look at her. She left her own wedding to accompany me to the hospital. 

So did her husband. 

And so did Zack.

“I’m so sorry, Shelby.”

“Don’t be. Just focus on the baby.”

My heart clenches along with my stomach as another contraction hits. I grit my teeth, trying not to make too much noise. 

Zack sits over in the corner, tugging on the ends of his hair and nibbling his bottom lip obsessively. Sweat pours into my eyes as I strain to see his face. I touch my own lips, recalling a few minutes before when we were lip locked. 

For the last time. 

“Are you doing okay?” John asks from his seat next to Zack. I nod quickly, sucking in a sharp breath. 

A thought hits me like a train, and I accidentally slap Shelby in the arm. 

“Ow!” she exclaims. 

“Angie and Chris, we have to call Angie and Chris!”

“I got it.” Zack says, producing his phone from his pocket and pressing a few buttons. He holds it up to his ear, waiting a few moments. 

“I got a voicemail.” he says, glancing my way, before continuing into the mouthpiece. “Hi Angie, hi Chris. This is Zack, Lauren’s...” he hesitates, sending a look at me and then reconsidering. “She’s in labor and we’re on our way to the hospital. We thought you probably want to be there.” 

I roll my eyes. It just figures they’d be in LA when I went in labor with their baby. Just as the ugly truth punches me in the face, another contraction punches me in the stomach. 

“AHHH!” I involuntarily yelp, gripping Shelby’s hand tightly. I see Zack wince out of the corner of my eye. I can’t help but be confused. 

“Zack? Are you okay?” My voice comes out pained and squeaky, but he looks over at me as if he came out of a coma. Like he’s forgotten any of the rest of the us are there, which, I have to say, is pretty amazing considering all my screaming. 

I swallow and adjust my position in my seat as the contraction passes. I don’t really want to be the kind of woman who goes into labor and screams bloody murder, so when the next one comes I bite my bottom lip and close my eyes against the pain. 

“Let’s play a game.” John suggests. I peek out of one eye and smile at him gratefully. 

“Okay.” I say while exhaling, gripping the leather seat for all it’s worth. “What game?”