“Oh, please.” She flicked her hand dismissively. “First-time mothers always exaggerate. My labor with Travis lasted sixteen hours. You’ve got plenty of time.”
Travis looked back and forth between his mother and me, his jaw tightening. My heart sank at the expression I recognized too well. He was going to give in.
“Travis,” I whispered, gripping his sleeve. “Please. Something isn’t right.”
“Don’t you dare move until I come back,” he snapped, pulling his arm away—his tone cold and authoritative in a way I had never heard directed at me before.
His father, Gerald, stepped out from the hallway, a newspaper tucked beneath his arm. “She can wait a few hours. It’s not that serious.” He clapped Travis on the shoulder. “Women have been giving birth forever. Take your mother shopping. She’s been waiting all week.”
I tried to protest, but Travis was already guiding his mother and sister out the door. Deborah shot me a satisfied look, her lips curved in triumph. “Just lie down on the couch,” Travis called without turning around. “I’ll be back in a couple hours.”
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