4.8: Uno, Dos, Tres

  -Holly's POV-
    "The nursery is decorated." I smiled. Everything was perfect- the cribs, colors; everything.
   "Are you feeling tired? Do you need a massage?"
   "Parker." I laughed. He was so sweet- overprotective, yes, but sweet. "I'm fine. And the babies are, too."
   "Are you sure? I mean I could-" He rambled on, as I sighed. I had done this before- pregnancy, not dealing with a doting husband. "And I read that you should eat lots of," He babbled. I looked at him, eyes shining. He was adorable and mine. He didn't mind that I had given birth, though not to a baby that had a part of me in it, before- he just loved he for me. Why couldn't I have found his before? I liked this man- no loved, like no one's damn business. And I proposed to him. That was insanity wrapped up in a manly diamond band.
   "Let's dance." I blurted out, not paying attention to him anymore.
   "Dance?"
   "Smustle. The one I swore to gummy bears was invented b a pregnant lady in labor or some idiot husband mocking her."
    "You're not offened by it?"
    "Look, bitch. I carried these things before. I will dress like I'm in the eighties. Kay?" I gestured to my eyeshadow and tank top I hadn't managed to fit in since college. "I will freaking dance like it, too."
    "I-okay." He nodded, turning up the stereo.

 You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life
See that girl, watch that scene, digging the Dancing Queen

                    

Friday night and the lights are low
Looking out for the place to go
Where they play the right music, getting in the swing
You come in to look for a king
Anybody could be that guy
Night is young and the music's high
With a bit of rock music, everything is fine
You're in the mood for a dance
And when you get the chance...
You are the Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen
Dancing Queen, feel the beat from the tambourine
You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life
See that girl, watch that scene, digging the Dancing Queen

You're a teaser, you turn 'em on
Leave them burning and then you're gone
Looking out for another, anyone will do
You're in the mood for a dance
And when you get the chance...   

You are the Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen
Dancing Queen, feel the beat from the tambourine
You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life
See that girl, watch that scene, digging the Dancing Queen

 -Dancing Queen, Abba

   "Holly! This is awesome!" Parker shouted, over the blaring music. He was dancing like insanity, something incredibly uncommon for him. "Nice moves." He commented, spinning around to face me.
   "Pa-ARRKER!" I shouted, not moving.
   "What?" He asked, completely clueless.
   "Boys. Get the heck away. Now."
   "What's going on? Holly, are you okay? Steven, Chase can you go to your rooms for a minute, please? Thanks." He stopped dancing, turning to face me.
    "Coming now."
    "What's- oh, sugar!" He shouted, as it dawned on him. "The babes? Are they really-?" I nodded, grimacing in pain. I had done this before. I knew what it felt like. I knew that the babies where coming now and I didn't have a choice. "The hospital- now. Let's go."
     "Parker." I glanced down. There was no way I was getting to the hospital in time.
    "Let's go. We can try."
    "There's no use. I'm having a home birth."
    "No, you aren't." He refused. He picked me- amazing, considering that I was the size of a ballooned elephant, and carried me out the door. He set me down on the elevator, so I was leaning against the wall.
     "Why are you against home births?" I asked.
     "Calina." He glanced up, not meeting my gaze.The one word, enough for an entire paragraph of explanations, was exactly what he hated. He hated comparing me to Calina. But she had a baby there, and somehow I was too good to.
     "I'm not her."
     "I know. I love you."
     "I lov-VVE. Fudge. You. Love you." I gasped for breath. "Contractions."   We climbed out of the elevator, carefully walking outside. Parker was trying to hail a cab. "It's no use. It's too late. All the cabs are buzzing around the bars for drunks."
     "What-?"
     "Subway." The seconds where ticking by and I needed to get to a hospital. We scurried down the stairs, buying tickets, and climbing aboard the train that was conveniently about to pull out of the station.
      "Are you alright?"
      "YES!" I screamed. "Parker. Move."
      "What?!"
      "The baby. Here. Now." I was sitting up; I laid down on the seats, placing Parker's jacket underneath me.
       "What the-" SOme lady who was across froom us screamed. "She's giving BIRTH?!"
       "I don't fu-UDGINGGG like it either!" I shouted. NY public transportation. Not exactly the ideal place to bring your little bundles of joy into the world.
       "Push!" A man yelled. "I'm studying for my MD to be a pediatrician. Push!" He yelled, standing up.
       "I'm pushing!" I screamed.
       "He's..." Parker caught the baby, as I tried to not shout out more vulgar language. I'd never done this on a subway without pain meds. "Triplets. All boys." He smiled, as the  MD student helped us out. We quickly went to the hospital afterwards, much to my pleasure.
       "Welcome to the world, my little boys." I smiled. Logan, Trevor, and Hunter. I was just glad that the pregnancy was over.