Courtney howled. “We’re going to destroy your bony, pasty ass, do you understand me, you undead bitch? When we get done with you, you won’t be able to sell so much as a—” I had stepped forward, ready to belt Head Courtney in the manner she deserved. But I was cut off by Jenny, who had cocked her fist back and knocked Courtney onto her ass, into a crate full of stuffed Spongebobs.
“Jenny!” I laughed, staring at her in surprise.
“Nobody talks to my sister that way,” Jenny said, rubbing her knuckles gingerly.
“You talk to me that way,” I pointed out.
“But that’s different. I’m your sister. I’m allowed, but no one else is.”
Tears sprang into my eyes, and I threw my arms around her. “Thanks, sis.”
Jenny stiffened, then relaxed and squeezed me back. “Oh, well, anytime.”
Zeb cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt this beautiful family moment, but my wife is having babies. Jane, get in the car!”
We arrived at the hospital to find Mama Ginger attempting to wrestle her way past a formidable looking nurse into the maternity ward. Unfortunately for Mama Ginger, the nurse was obviously a John Cena fan and maneuvered Mama Ginger into some sort of pretzel arm-lock position in which she was powerless.
At the sight of his mother, Zeb stopped in his tracks and muttered several of the seven words you’re not supposed to say in polite company.
“How did she know Jolene was here?” I demanded. “I thought you said you weren’t going to call her until a few days after the babies are home from the hospital.”
“I don’t know,” Zeb said, at this point on the cusp of tears. “She must have staked out our house!
I thought I saw her car driving up and down our road yesterday, but I told myself even Mama wasn’t that crazy.”
“Obviously, you haven’t paid attention for the last thirty or so years.”
“I’ve got to get to Jolene,” Zeb said, his eyes scanning the hall wildly. “If Mama sees me, I’ll never get past her in time.”
“Calm down. This is why Jolene appointed me waiting-room bouncer,” I told him. “Because I’m willing to do things like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like this.” I shoved Zeb behind the admissions desk, out of Mama Ginger’s sightline.
“Mama Ginger, what are you doing?” I called, waving excitedly.
Mama Ginger whirled at the sound of my voice, no longer struggling with the hospital’s linebacker. With Mama Ginger distracted, Zeb slunk around the admissions desk, behind her back, and into the maternity ward. She didn’t look pleased to see me, but I did provide the excuse to complain about her treatment in a really loud voice.
“This silly woman says they don’t have a patient named Jolene Lavelle listed here, but I know she’s here! I saw her mother’s car out in the parking lot!” she cried, her voice reaching hysterical levels. Several nurses poked their heads into the hallway, but seeing who it was, they ducked back into the patients’ rooms.
“Jolene must be listed as a private patient, Mama Ginger,” I said, keeping my voice soothing.
She shied away when I tried to loop my arm through hers, so I took her elbow and led her into the waiting room. “That means the nurse can’t tell you if she’s here. It’s against the law.”
When we walked into the waiting room, Jolene’s entire pack was waiting there. It was fortunate that very few women in town seemed destined to have Halloween babies, because there would have been nowhere for their expectant families to sit. Jolene’s aunts, uncles, and cousins were lounging on every available surface. Jolene’s male relatives had that healthy, hearty, but blank look about them. Yes, they were nice to look at, but all hotness aside, I’d like to spend my time with someone who doesn’t live his life according to tenets set forth onWalker, Texas Ranger. The aunts were convened in a corner, eyes darting from one side of the room to the other, absorbing it all. They all seemed to be enjoying the novelty of the experience, with the exception of Aunt Vonnie, whose mouth was puckered and unhappy.
Mimi and Lonnie McClaine, the only McClaines who liked me, were pacing the room, their stances defensive and agitated. Lonnie McClaine was picking a giant bouquet of carnations to shreds. But fortunately, there were backups. It looked as if the babies were about to be coronated.
The room was absolutely packed with flowers and stuffed animals. Half of the flowers were pink, the other half were blue. They had teddy bears wearing tutus and bears wearing baseball uniforms. And a ham, which I guessed was gender-neutral.
Nothing like covering all of your bases.
Now that Jolene’s presence in the labor room was confirmed, Mama Ginger started screeching, “I have a right to see my grandchildren born!”
The entire pack flinched at once. I threw myself on top of Mama Ginger, both to keep her from launching herself toward Jolene’s delivery room and to serve as a shield—just in case Jolene’s relatives still held grudges about Mama Ginger’s wedding-related sabotage. From the floor, I looked up to find a circle of emotionally high-strung werewolves glaring down at us.
“Mimi?” I called. “Could you keep your family from, you know, committing public homicide?”
“Come on, y’all, calm down,” Mimi chided, rolling her eyes. “My baby’s having babies, I can’t take time to bail your asses out of jail.”
The pack let out a collective huff and backed down. Because Mimi was the alpha female and they pretty much had to.
“They’re my grandbabies,” Mama Ginger whined. “I belong in that delivery room! I’ve been waiting Zeb’s whole life for this. I have the right to be in there with him!”
Mama Ginger tried to push up off the floor, and I forced her back down. Please, Lord, don’t let someone I know see me wallowing all over the hospital floor on top of Mama Ginger. Or the cops, who would probably assume I was trying forcibly to drain her. “No, you don’t, Mama Ginger. Whosoever’s hoo-ha is on display, that’s the person who decides who gets to be in the room. And Jolene didn’t even ask her own mother to be in the room, so that should tell you something. Zeb will come and get us when they’re good and ready to see us. Now, just sit down and read a damn magazine.”
Mama Ginger flopped onto a couch and petulantly flipped through a year-old copy ofRedbook.
In the choice between sitting with Jolene’s extended family, most of whom didn’t like me much better than Mama Ginger, or with Mama Ginger herself, I chose to lean against the wall. This proved to be a good call, as I had to launch myself after Mama Ginger from time to time whenever she made a break for the delivery rooms.
I could only fly-tackle a fifty-year-old woman so many times before I started losing my sense of humor, so I was grateful when my sensitive vampire ears picked up the sound of two strong cries down the hall.
The element of surprise is vastly overrated in any relationship.
—Love Bites: A Female Vampire’s Guide to Less Destructive Relationships
Jolene had two perfectly healthy babies, in a perfectly normal delivery, in a perfectly normal hospital room.
It was a McClaine family first.
After the inevitable squabble between Mimi and Mama Ginger over who held the babies first (Mama Ginger was lucky she lost the struggle and not, say, a finger) and the pack was allowed to sniff the babies to their hearts’ content, I finally made it back to Jolene’s recovery room. An exhausted, beaming Zeb handed me a squirming pink bundle, and I fell in love. Little Janelyn, my namesake. The daughter I would never have. The baby I could love and spoil and then immediately hand back to her real mother. Now I knew how Aunt Jettie must have felt, to love a child so completely, to want to be a part of her life, even if you weren’t a parent.
When Zeb placed a sleeping baby Joe in my hands, it seemed like an embarrassment of riches.
“They’re beautiful,” I told Jolene, who was fighting hard not to doze off in her hospital bed.
Jolene smiled, her contentment so complete that she didn’t have to respond. My eyes pricked with hot, happy tears as Janelyn studied me with her big blue eyes. Her little hand crept out from under the blanket and wrapped around my finger.
“Hello, little baby,” I cooed. “I’m Auntie Jane. When your mama says it’s OK, I’m going to take you guys to the library and museums and movies. I’ll feed you food that’ll make you hyper and nauseous, and then I’ll bring you straight home. I’ll help you hide your first tattoo. We’re going to have a great time.”
“Nice,” Jolene muttered, her mouth quirked into a tired smile. I snickered.
I stroked a finger along the curve of Joe’s downy-soft cheek, and for a moment, I felt a keen sense of loss for not being able to have a baby of my own.
Janelyn, who seemed incredibly strong for a newborn, even in my limited experience with babies, pulled my finger to her mouth.Chomp!