labor.”
“What in the …” I stared as she hauled herself to her feet. “Where … Here, let me help you.” I hurried around to the other side of the counter. In the space under her desk was a blanket, two pillows, and a couple of plastic Evian water bottles. “Ginny!” I exclaimed as I tried to get her into the chair. “Have you been napping under your desk?”
“Only since …” She winced with pain, uttered a gasp, and pressed a hand to her back. “… last week.” Clumsily, she sat down, short breaths coming rapidly. “I get
so
tired.”
“Of course.” I wasn’t without sympathy. “But you should’ve told me. We could’ve figured out a better setup.” I looked around, suddenly realizing Vida had disappeared. “How many minutes apart are the pains?” I asked, glancing into the newsroom. It was empty. It occurred to me that Vida had probably gone to the Bank of Alpine to let Rick, Ginny’s husband and the manager, know that their baby was on its way.
“Eleven minutes and eighteen seconds,” Ginny replied after a pause, presumably to calculate exact timing. She checked her watch. “The next one should be at nine-thirty-four.”
“I’ll let Kip know what’s going on,” I said, heading for the back shop.
I couldn’t catch what Ginny said in response, but as long as she hadn’t announced that she could see the baby’s head,we had plenty of time. The hospital was only three blocks away.
Kip, whose wife had had their first baby in the early spring, grinned at my news. “Great! Maybe Ginny will get a girl this time.” He suddenly sobered. “Who’s replacing her?”
I grimaced. “I’m not sure. I’ve put it off because whenever I mention finding a temp, Ginny starts to cry and says whoever we get will be better than she is and she’ll never be able to come back to work.”
“That’s crap,” Kip said as we both headed for the front office. “Ginny’s good at what she does. You’d never hire anyone else full-time.”
“Of course not.”
We entered the front office just as Vida came through the door. “Rick’s getting your car, Ginny. Come, I’ll guide you out to the curb. He should be there very shortly.”
“Okay.” Ginny’s voice was feeble. “Help me up.”
Kip gave her a hand. “I’ve had practice this time, Gin,” he said with a big smile. “You need a coat?”
“No. Yes.” She leaned on Kip. “My heavy brown cardigan. It’s under the pillow under the desk. Oh—and my purse. It’s under the desk, too. And my other shoes and …”
“We’ll make sure everything gets to you,” I said. “If there’s anything else, I’ll come by the hospital with it later, okay?”
Kip turned Ginny over to Vida. By the time the two women had reached the door, Kip had found the cardigan and the purse. I spotted Rick pulling up in the Erlandsons’ Saturn SUV. Unfortunately, he had to back up on the diagonal to get into the empty space next to Vida’s Buick. He ran up over the curb, denting the back bumper on one of Mayor Fuzzy Baugh’s concrete planters.
“Our car!” Ginny cried, and promptly doubled over, yelping in pain.
“A simple job to get rid of the dent,” Vida soothed, holding on to Ginny and half dragging her to the SUV’s passenger side while Rick got out to check the damage before coming to his wife’s aid.
“I can fix that!” Kip shouted. “Don’t worry. Just go, man!”
Rick went—back behind the wheel, leaving Vida to struggle with a moaning, groaning Ginny. I was about to offer my help but, as usual, my House & Home editor was up to the task. The last I heard from either Erlandson was Ginny wailing that she couldn’t fasten her seat belt. Rick stepped on the gas—and hit the planter again. Obviously, he’d forgotten to take the car out of reverse. A moment later he pulled out into traffic, narrowly missing a school bus, which, luckily, was empty at this time of day.
“Good Lord,” I muttered. “Can they go three blocks
“What in the …” I stared as she hauled herself to her feet. “Where … Here, let me help you.” I hurried around to the other side of the counter. In the space under her desk was a blanket, two pillows, and a couple of plastic Evian water bottles. “Ginny!” I exclaimed as I tried to get her into the chair. “Have you been napping under your desk?”
“Only since …” She winced with pain, uttered a gasp, and pressed a hand to her back. “… last week.” Clumsily, she sat down, short breaths coming rapidly. “I get
so
tired.”
“Of course.” I wasn’t without sympathy. “But you should’ve told me. We could’ve figured out a better setup.” I looked around, suddenly realizing Vida had disappeared. “How many minutes apart are the pains?” I asked, glancing into the newsroom. It was empty. It occurred to me that Vida had probably gone to the Bank of Alpine to let Rick, Ginny’s husband and the manager, know that their baby was on its way.
“Eleven minutes and eighteen seconds,” Ginny replied after a pause, presumably to calculate exact timing. She checked her watch. “The next one should be at nine-thirty-four.”
“I’ll let Kip know what’s going on,” I said, heading for the back shop.
I couldn’t catch what Ginny said in response, but as long as she hadn’t announced that she could see the baby’s head,we had plenty of time. The hospital was only three blocks away.
Kip, whose wife had had their first baby in the early spring, grinned at my news. “Great! Maybe Ginny will get a girl this time.” He suddenly sobered. “Who’s replacing her?”
I grimaced. “I’m not sure. I’ve put it off because whenever I mention finding a temp, Ginny starts to cry and says whoever we get will be better than she is and she’ll never be able to come back to work.”
“That’s crap,” Kip said as we both headed for the front office. “Ginny’s good at what she does. You’d never hire anyone else full-time.”
“Of course not.”
We entered the front office just as Vida came through the door. “Rick’s getting your car, Ginny. Come, I’ll guide you out to the curb. He should be there very shortly.”
“Okay.” Ginny’s voice was feeble. “Help me up.”
Kip gave her a hand. “I’ve had practice this time, Gin,” he said with a big smile. “You need a coat?”
“No. Yes.” She leaned on Kip. “My heavy brown cardigan. It’s under the pillow under the desk. Oh—and my purse. It’s under the desk, too. And my other shoes and …”
“We’ll make sure everything gets to you,” I said. “If there’s anything else, I’ll come by the hospital with it later, okay?”
Kip turned Ginny over to Vida. By the time the two women had reached the door, Kip had found the cardigan and the purse. I spotted Rick pulling up in the Erlandsons’ Saturn SUV. Unfortunately, he had to back up on the diagonal to get into the empty space next to Vida’s Buick. He ran up over the curb, denting the back bumper on one of Mayor Fuzzy Baugh’s concrete planters.
“Our car!” Ginny cried, and promptly doubled over, yelping in pain.
“A simple job to get rid of the dent,” Vida soothed, holding on to Ginny and half dragging her to the SUV’s passenger side while Rick got out to check the damage before coming to his wife’s aid.
“I can fix that!” Kip shouted. “Don’t worry. Just go, man!”
Rick went—back behind the wheel, leaving Vida to struggle with a moaning, groaning Ginny. I was about to offer my help but, as usual, my House & Home editor was up to the task. The last I heard from either Erlandson was Ginny wailing that she couldn’t fasten her seat belt. Rick stepped on the gas—and hit the planter again. Obviously, he’d forgotten to take the car out of reverse. A moment later he pulled out into traffic, narrowly missing a school bus, which, luckily, was empty at this time of day.
“Good Lord,” I muttered. “Can they go three blocks
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