Chapter 38: Birth

I continued to be amazed by how nicely the six of us fit together: Crystal, Ellen, Claire, Nadia, Terry, and me. After Nadia’s story telling we were all so horny, we went up to our big bed and made love with one another. My amazement came from the point that no one ever felt that they were an ‘extra’ or a ‘third wheel.’ I wondered if it was self-selection to the life style we’d adopted. Even when we’d had others with us, everyone felt included and ended up happy and sated.

The first ten days back in Nashville and home in the United States were a blur. I went from press conference to interview to press conference to interview, and repeated the process over and over. Every newspaper, magazine, radio station, and television station had to hear me talk about the Dublin Bomb first hand. The European press continued to hype the event with follow-up stories.

The day after the blast I had been front-page news, and the fervor by the media hadn’t died down by the time we got back to the U.S. Moreover, every publication also revisited the Nicaragua kidnapping of Jill Danes and my subsequent rescue effort. I’d been a public hero twice in only a few months.

I don’t know how the media found out, but stories from my road trip also started to be the subject of the various interviews: my rescue of an unconscious farmer in Pennsylvania from his burning barn, the rescue of a couple of kids in a dingy in South Carolina, stopping a rape in Alabama and getting shot for my troubles, catching a thief in Arkansas, rescuing a girl from a tornado in Kansas, and helping in another rescue effort after a bad traffic accident in Washington.

Of course, the whole situation with Summer Ellis, and my child resurfaced. I had to explain again how I’d been asked to impregnate the wife of a dear friend who had a war injury and was infertile. Not a bad word was said about any of this, only the curiosity of how one friend helped another in an unusual way. One newspaper even put out a special Sunday Supplement that focused entirely on me and my feats. I was embarrassed.

A couple of weeks after we got back from Dublin, Crystal and I started to work on a new record album together, a mix of solos and duets. Ellen took on the role of producer and promoter for us under Terry’s tutelage. She caught on quickly, and we were pleased with Terry and her interaction with Sony Music about our remuneration for the new album.

Terry got us a new movie script – a ‘romantic action drama’ entitled Downslope. Jake Randall, our young friend and composer had come up with five different songs that could be the title song for the movie and the centerpiece of the new album. One day, Ellen brought Jake out to the house, and we spent the day in the studio tinkering with each of the renditions. Ellen worked the audio controls and recorded the session as Jake played the keyboard and Crystal and I sang. The only progress we made was to eliminate one of the songs; even Jake decided he didn’t like it that much. Matter of fact, Jake decided he didn’t like any of the newly penned songs that much, so he pledged to go back to work the next day on something for us and the movie.

At the end of the afternoon, Jake said he had to go. I asked if he had time for a glass of wine, and he checked his watch and said, “Well, just a small one.” Jake looked about sixteen, but was twenty-six. He had a gift for writing country songs, and he particularly liked us and told us he always felt as though he was writing for us to sing. He envisioned us on stage singing his songs.

We had some new Italian wine from Umbria, and I poured us each a glass, honoring Jake’s request for only a taste. Ellen and Claire joined the three of us.

Just as we sat in the living room, my cell phone rang. I glanced at the number, thinking I would allow the call to go into voice mail, but I saw the Ohio area code and so rapidly answered the phone putting it on speaker automatically.

“George, what’s happening?”

George Ellis talked in a rapid voice throwing his words at me as though a machine gun had fired them; “Jim, Summer’s water broke about ten minutes ago. She’s starting to feel intense labor pains, and she asked me to call you because she’s going to have the baby in the next twenty-four hours. She wants you to join me in the delivery room for the birth of your child, if you can. She’s doing natural childbirth. Can you get up here to Greenville really fast?”

I blurted out, “I’ll try. I’ll call you back with my arrangements.”

George said, “One thing you should know is that Edie is here, too. I guess you know from our emails that we’ve seen each other often over the past few months. She’s going to take care of Little Jim while we’re at the hospital.”

I fondly recalled pretty Edie Gerst, the reporter from the Dayton Daily News who had broken the story about my having a son with Summer Ellis, George’s wife. We ended up giving her an exclusive on the story, and that helped jump her career up several notches with her paper and the rest of the media. The story had enabled her to get access to higher powered and newsworthy people, and that in turn gave her access to even more high powered and newsworthy people, and so on. She was on a roll.

As I hung up, Ellen said, “Want me to see how fast I can get you to Greenville, Ohio?”

“Please. I wouldn’t know where to start except with the commercial airlines.”

Ellen got up and left the room. She yelled over her shoulder, “Jim, go pack a bag and get ready to leave. I’ll have something for you shortly.”

Twenty minutes later, Ellen came back in the room with her clipboard. I’d already packed a rollaway suitcase with my essentials, and had my briefcase with my new Macbook Air. Beside the two cases was the beat-up travel guitar that I’d carried on most of my road trip across America.

Ellen said, “A car will be picking you up in about twenty minutes. There’ll be a small jet waiting for you at the general aviation terminal at Nashville. They should have you at the Darke County Airport about three to four hours from now. The pilot I talked to told me the weather looked good, and he’d have to carry minimum fuel so he could get their Citation XLS in and out of that airport.”

I asked, “How will I get from the airport to the hospital or George and Summer’s home.”

Ellen smiled and said, “I talked to Edie. One way or another she will pick you up. She may have Little Jim asleep in his car seat, but she’ll be there, and she’ll be up to date on what’s happening with Summer.”

I went and hugged Ellen; “You’re a gem. Thank you for setting this up.”

The doorbell rang. I heard Nadia answer the door, and realized my ride to airport had come.

Crystal came and kissed me, “Go and be a good expectant father. You’ll never forget the next twenty-four hours. Oh, and have fun with Edie. Give her a hug, kiss, my love, and then a lot more kisses and other physical stuff when you see her. Give her a lot of physical stuff.” She gave me a knowing grin and pushed me towards my suitcases.

I hugged Ellen, Claire, and Nadia, too, shook hands with Jake, waved at Terry, and was out the door.

Carl Burr, the pilot of the sleek jet, had told me that night landings by a high-performance jet on short runways were not conducive to smooth landings and long easy rollouts. He was right. We practically slammed the wheels down on the numbers at the Darke County Airport, and then we used every possible effort to stop the aircraft before the end of the runway pulling a lot of forward “G’s” that flung me forward against my seat belt. We made it. As I got off the plane at the GA terminal, Carl told me, “Oh, we had a couple hundred more feet we could have used before we stopped.” He grinned at me, clearly proud of squeaking the jet into the small airport at night. I wondered how he’d ever takeoff.

Edie ran across the tarmac and into my arms. She wore a flowered dress, so when she jumped into my arms, she also had the flexibility to wrap her legs around me and grind her pussy against my rapidly straining bump. We kissed quite a bit before she let go.

Carl brought my bags over by Edie’s car as we were hugging. He gave me a wink and walked back to the jet.

Edie positively effused from that moment on about helping the Ellis’ and the imminent arrival of the baby Summer and I had conceived nine months earlier about the same time I’d met Edie for the second time, and she did the article about James Mellon Ellis, my first child by Summer.

As we started to leave the airport parking area in front of the terminal, I realized we were in Summer’s car. Edie explained, “It already had the child car seat in it. In case you didn’t notice, your son is asleep back there. My car is back at the Ellis’. George is already at the hospital, and that’s where we’re going now.”

I hadn’t noticed. I spun around, and there, slumped over in his seat was Little Jim. A network of crisscrossed shoulder and lap belts secured him to the seat and the seat to the car. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world, and certainly not like he was about to have a new sibling.

Edie knew where she was going, and we whipped over a few different roads, got nearer to Greenville center, and then she pulled up in front of the hospital’s Emergency Entrance. As we’d driven, Edie gave me instructions on what to say as I got into the hospital – words that would get me to George and Summer.

I gave Edie a peck on the lips and dashed into the hospital. Apparently, George had paved the way for my arrival at this late hour. A night-duty nurse, shepherded me up one flight of stairs and off to the Maternity Wing of the hospital. She pushed me into a men’s changing area, dropped a set of green scrubs into my arms, told me to change, and “get through ‘that’ door, as soon as possible.” ‘That’ door, was a portal into the delivery room, and through a window in the door I could see George, a doctor, and two nurses in the room, probably all working around Summer.

I stripped, washed my hands, put on the scrubs, and walked through the door into the delivery room. The first words I heard in a female scream were, “OOOOH, GREAT FUCKING SHIT THAT HURTS!”

I walked up beside Summer; “My, my, my. Such terrible language from such a pretty mother to be.”

“OH, FUCK YOU. You made pregnant you bastard. I’m in labor, and it hurts like hell.” At least she smiled at me. She held out her arms to me. I leaned over the gurney and kissed her. She even ran her tongue into my mouth briefly. George nodded and smiled; he was glad I was there.

One of the nurses had been hovering around Summer’s nether region. She announced to the room, “She’s ten centimeters. Pretty soon now. She’s all shaved.”

Summer’s complexion was flushed and blotchy, and she’d clearly been pushing and trying to rid her body of the baby. I could only sympathize. She smiled as the pain passed, “I am so glad you’re here. I wanted you so badly to see this ... I mean this is ours ... all three of us.” She reached out with her right hand and grabbed George’s hand, and with her left hand grabbed my hand. She had tears of joy and pain simultaneously running down her face.

I saw a wet washcloth on a stand beside the bed; I picked it up and started to wipe down Summer’s face. She closed her eyes and relished the attention.

A nurse handed me a paper cup full of ice chips and a spoon. “Here; you can give her some of these. It’ll help cool her down a little and ease the pain.”

I asked, “Are you on anything?”

Summer grimaced and said, “Nothing between me and the pain. Just you guys.” Her eyes got big and she said, “Oh, fuck, here comes another one.”

Summer threw her head back and grimaced in agony as another labor pain swept through her body. I had seen the nurse massage the baby bump that now made up most of her lower body. I took over as her legs tensed and pushed into the stirrups on the end of the table. I rubbed for all I was worth, even feeling the ripples of the abdominal and uterine muscles as I did.

As the pain passed and Summer squinted at me, I fed her a few of the ice chips. She gobbled them down as fast I could feed them too her, at least until the nurse said to go a little slow on intake, otherwise she’d just vomit.

Summer gave me a grimaced grin. She said, “I can actually feel my pelvic bones separating – pulling apart when one of those pains rips through me. I think I’m really close.” She sobbed, “Oh, God, I’m so glad George and you are here with me.”