CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE
(part five)

Tuesday afternoon — 4:07 P.M.

Heather was standing at the MAC counter when she felt a strong contraction. She’d been having false labor for the last week or so, so she thought nothing of it. With the economy as bad as it was, she was the only employee until five. Anyway, she figured she’d be in labor for twenty-four hours or maybe forty-eight hours. She also figured she would be late. After all, this was her first pregnancy.

Everyone told her she would be late and in labor for at least twenty-four hours.

But everyone also told her about morning sickness, general depression, exhaustion, swollen feet, feeling like you could eat a house, and a whole bunch of other stuff. Luckily, she hadn’t had any of those problems.

Well, swollen feet. But swollen feet where a part of working retail. Heather turned away from the customer in front of her.

“Oof,” she said.

“Are you okay?” the young woman asked.

“Just a little false labor,” Heather said. “I think we should try this other mascara. That black is too dark. Have you tried the deep blue?”

And so she got through the next ten minutes. Delighted with her makeup, the customer spent over a hundred dollars and even asked Heather is she would consider doing the makeup for her wedding. While chanting ‘please leave’ inside her head, Heather smiled and nodded. She collapsed onto a high stool when the customer left.

Glancing at her watch, she began to call her birthing team to find:

Sandy was still with the police jerks.

Jill was still at the stupid trial.

Tanesha was still at work at Denver Health.

Crap.

She didn’t even have a car. Her new car was getting an upgrade done. Blane had dropped her off for work then said something… what did he say?

“Oofff,” she said.

She felt a trickle, then a whoosh of wetness.

Holy crap!

She was having this baby!

Right now!

Where were her girls? Sure, Blane had gone to every class and was going to do acupuncture but she needed HER GIRLS. She tried to call Tanesha again.

No answer.

Crap. She left Tanesha a text message. Heather held the phone to her forehead willing it to ring. With contractions coming a minute a part, she faded a little bit.

“Hi,” Blane said. Somehow he arrived on the other side of the counter. “Are you all right?”

“She doesn’t look great, Blane.”

Who said that? Heather thought. Her head rotated to see none other than TRES SIERRA!

“WHATISHEDOINGHERE!?!”

Ooh that came out a little loud.  Did she just scream? In the middle of MAC? Her boss will kill her!

“He helped me get the car,” Blane went around to the other side of the counter.

“She’s having the baby,” Tres said. “I’ll call 9-1-1.”

“I don’t think we have that kind of time,” Blane said. “This baby is coming now. Heather? Heather?”

Heather looked at him and smiled. Here he was. She needed him and here he was. For the first time in her entire life, a man came through for her. Just for her.  Even though he had said he would be there, he had said he wanted to be there, she’d never believed him. Until this moment. Blane was here.

“Let’s get her off the chair,” Tres said. “Do you have needles in the car?”

“I have some with me,” Blane said. “I was going to give her a treatment. She’s been having contractions for a week or so. She’s been pretty uncomfortable… no sleep…”

“Get the FUCK out of my way.”

Denver Cereal continues tomorrow…