She told her the storm had passed. She told her everybody was safe. She told her the baby was here. A girl. Healthy. Seven pounds, two ounces. Perfect.
“A girl?” Jean said. She started to cry. “A girl? Oh, Marisol. Oh, she’s beautiful. Isn’t she beautiful?”
“She’s beautiful,” Gabby said. Her own voice was shaking. “You did so good, Jean. You did everything right.”
“What did you name her?”
Gabby swallowed hard.
“Gabriela,” she said. “We named her Gabriela.”
Jean smiled through her tears.
“That’s a good name,” she said. “That’s a beautiful name.”
She let out a long breath. Her shoulders sagged. All the fear went out of her body, like water draining out of a tub.
“I’m tired,” she said. “I’m so tired.”
“I know,” Gabby said. “Let’s get you to bed. Your real bed. Elmer’s here. He’ll walk you.”
