Foto bij 352 - Emma

As soon as I hear the word labour, my adrenaline kicks in. It kicks in so heavily it takes me a good few seconds until I realise it wasn't Kenna or Tom dropping the news. The voice was so familiar my brain didn't question it, and I still won't take the time to do so, but the realisation does hit me like a ton of bricks.
Why the hell is Lucien with her, and why does that make my heart pound out of my chest even more?
"I'm...." I've got my phone to my ear as I'm scurrying through the house, in blind panic, looking for my keys and my other belongings. "In Glasgow, but... I'm on my way."
Jesse, who was slaving away in the kitchen, comes out with a worried look on his face. "Babe, what on earth are you doing?"
"I can't find my fucking shoes," I exclaim, "I have to go, Kenna... it's time, I have to go."
I'm very well aware I'm still on the phone, the other side of the line suspiciously quiet apart from some heavy breathing.
"Shoes are by the back door," he says, very calmly. "I'll drive you."
I shake my head viciously. "I'll take a train," as I sprint to the back door, where I indeed find my shoes. It's snowing lightly outside, because why wouldn't it?
Leave it up to Kenna to go into labour over two weeks early, especially on Christmas eve.
"There isn't a train that'll take you there in time, it's snowing and it's Christmas, Em. I'm driving you," he's come in with his coat on, keys in his hand.
"You... what about Kate? It's Christmas, I...," my fingers fumble with the laces to my shoes as Jesse bends down to tie them for me in stead.
"Let him fucking drive you, Emma!" It's the first time since her worrying moan that I've heard Kenna speak, and in all of my stress it causes me to giggle.
Jesse looks at me as he gets up. "She yell at you?"
I nod, taking my coat from him, too. "I guess we should go."
      The roads are bad and for the entirety of the ride, which takes about an hour and a half, I'm checking my phone religiously.
They've gotten to the hospital, Tom has texted me. They're fine, and the doctors think it might be a while, so there's no need for me to stress.
Kate sings along to most songs on the radio, crammed in the back between three hastily packed suitcases and the entire basket of presents. We've decided to celebrate Christmas in Edinburgh instead, because Jesse understood there was no way I was going to leave Kenna.
Jesse is going to drop me off at the hospital, and he and Kate will drive to my appartment, where they'll put up my fake Christmas tree I've been dying to put up and he'll continue dinner for the two of them.
I'm tapping my foot anxiously every second, still worried I'll miss it somehow.
As Jesse hits his brakes in front of the hospital, I feel the adrenaline rush kick back in. I kiss him, make sure he knows my address and has the keys, and watch them drive off as I sprint into the hospital.
      I take the stairs up all seven flights of stairs, too full of adrenaline to wait for the elevator. Tom has texted me to let me know what room they're in, and considering I'm the baby's godparent, I'm allowed in.
Kenna's splayed out on the bed, beads of sweat on her forehead as she's cursing her husband out.
Brie is calmly in the corner on the little couch, almost looking like a kid in time-out.
Kenna interrupts her screaming as she sees me come in, and manages to give me a smile. "She's here."
"I'm here," I walk over to her, taking her hand in mine. "God, Ken..."
"I know, right? It's baby Jesus all over again....," it's good to see she can still crack jokes, even when she's mid labour.
"She's about six centimetres dialated," Tom lets me know, scratches on his arm from Kenna's force. "They can't quite tell how long it'll take from here, but she's progressing quite fast, so it could be today, or tomorrow."
"I want it out now," Kenna moans, visibly uncomfortable as another contraction washes over her.
I put my bag down next to Brie and hug him tightly as he gets up. He looks pretty relaxed, which isn't weird considering his personality. It must be nice for Kenna to have him here.
Seeing him also reminds me of the call - when I swear I heard Lucien speak. Was that just my fight or flight instinct playing tricks on me, or was he actually there?
"So... what happened?" I ask him as he taps a little cup of water for the both of us from the machine in the corner.
"She went to do some last Christmas shopping like the mad woman she is," he smiles, "and when she went into this café to sit down and rest her legs for a bit... she ran into Lucien."
So it wasn't my mind playing tricks on me. He's here, and I heard his voice on the phone.
"In true Kenna fashion, she ran out," Tom adds in on the story as Kenna squeezes his hand tightly, "cursed him out when he followed her."
"And then," she's huffing and puffing, "my water broke."
"He drove her to the hospital," Gabriel tells me as if this story is very normal and not at all weird for me. "They got here a little before we did, and he stayed with her until we were both here."
"We offered him he could stay," Tom is stretching out his hand, possibly broken from the power in Kenna's child-bearing body, "but he declined, made up some excuse about plans. I think he would've liked to see you, though, Em," he doesn't say it without any judgement, just as an observation.
I swallow some tears and shrug. "But today's not about him, nor is it about me. It's about that beautiful baby and Kenna getting through this."
I take one of those chairs with wheels underneath them and roll up to the bed. "I'll take over for a bit if you don't mind, Tom, you can take a breather."

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