Tame the Beast : Small Beach Town, Single Mom Romance

I jump from my stupor watching her curse whoever told her all those things, wrapping my arms around her waist, and help her down the few steps and around the house so we can get to the car.

The hospital is right smack in the middle of LC and while our town is small, this drive feels like it’s taking forever. Especially when Zoe cries out in pain every few minutes and even I know—from the movies—that it means the babies are coming soon!

Zoe texts someone as we drive but it takes her a lot longer than normally because the contractions are hitting her more and more.

See, I know stuff.

Fifteen minutes later I park like a maniac you see in those same movies right at the entrance of labor and delivery, barely putting the car on park before I’m out the door and opening hers, yelling out to anyone who can hear. “Our water broke! We are having the babies!”

“Me,” Zoe says through clenched teeth as a nurse runs out with a wheelchair. “I’m having a baby.”

I level her with an affronted look. “What kind of a dad would I be if I wasn’t involved in the birth of my children!” She gets into the chair.

“Matteo, you—” But whatever she was going to say gets cut off by another contraction and only a string of curses makes it past her lips at the same time as she grabs my hand, squeezing the life out of it and I let out a silent scream.

I’m a man. I can take this. I can be strong for her, but dear God, where is all this strength coming from?

“You’re the father?” the nurse asks me calmly, still standing here like we came in for a fucking Band-Aid and not pushing a watermelon out of our vagina. TWO watermelons!

“Of course I am!” I shout. “Do you mind moving, maybe? Can’t you see my girl is in pain?”

“First baby?” she asks with that same tone, and I narrow my eyes at her.

“Yes,” I hiss.

“Don’t worry, next time will be easier.” She pats my back and finally starts rolling Zoe in and I follow, seeing as she’s still clutching my hand that is already numb.

Next time?

I don’t know if I will survive the first one, she’s already talking about a next time! I swear if I see her in LPs, I’ll make her the worst cocktail of all cocktails. With that cheap, diluted liquor.

We don’t carry any at the moment, but I will buy some. Just for her.

“Dad, go park the car and bring in all of the stuff inside.” Right, I should do that.

“I’ll be right back, Beastie, don’t push the watermelons without me, okay?” I lean in, kissing the top of her head and feel her give me a slight nod before I turn around, running back to the car.

Wait, what stuff? I look up to ask Zoe, but she’s already in.

Quickly, I park at the nearest spot and search the car for any “stuff,” finding two packed bags in the trunk. I grab those and hurry back inside.

Damn it, I don’t have any of my stuff with me because when I woke up this morning, becoming a dad wasn’t on my agenda.

Mom. I should call Mom and ask her to bring me what I need. What the hell do I even need?

This is why normal people have nine months to prepare for the baby, not thirty minutes and a crash course in contractions.

Oh God, are the babies okay if they are born so much earlier?

Come on, pick up, I chant to the ringing phone which she finally picks up a millennial later. Fine, it was just a few beeps, but currently I exist in a different universe, okay? One where my whole world has been upturned.

“Mom,” I yell out.

“Rainbows, Matty, don’t yell at me! I was doing it for you! Mama knows best.” She starts spewing some crap my way, but I have no idea what’s she talking about, and I don’t have the time for her riddles right now.

“Mom, listen! I need you to pack me a bag and get to the hospital right away.”

“Oh my God, Matteo!” she gasps. “Did you guys have a fight?”