Callan:How long was Ava in labour with Fiona?
Rory:No clue. She didn’t tell us she’d gone into labour. Her partner called after Fiona was born. I’m pretty sure she told Mam the whole labour story, but she spared me the details.
I stare at the phone for a few minutes, waiting for a reply that doesn’t come. With a sigh, I make myself a coffee and take it to the lounge. I put the TV on as quietly as possible while still being able to hear it. I flick to a rerun of an American police-procedural series. That’ll do.
Rory:Are you both okay?
Callan:Aye, just tired. Niamh’s uncomfortable. The midwife says it won’t be long now. I hope she’s right.
Rory:Fingers crossed.
I try to watch the TV show, but my eyes keep flicking back to the screen of my phone. It goes dark. My heart won’t stop hammering as I hope for another message.
“Hi.”
I look up and smile at Quinn. “Hi.”
“Mind if I join you?”
“Of course not. What are you doing awake?”
His eyebrow quirks up as though he thinks I’m kidding. “I fall asleep when I don’t want to and can’t sleep when I do.” He sits beside me. “Narcolepsy sucks.”
“Sorry.”
He shakes his head. “I’m used to it. Mostly.” He waves a phone. “I’ve got Stefan’s phone in case Callan calls, but I guess you’ll be the one he gets in touch with first.”
I frown. “Callan?”
“Yeah. Stefan gave him his number in case he needs anything.”
“You know…?”
“That he’s about to be a dad? Yes. I walked in on him telling Stefan and Hendrix the news that his ex was in labour.” Quinn studies my face. “Are you okay?”
“Aye. Just waiting for news.”
Quinn worries at his lower lip with his teeth. “You look as worried as Callan did when he left.”
Maybe that’s why my heart is going crazy right now.
“Can I ask you something?” Quinn asks.
I nod.
“When Callan called the day we were playing Never Have I Ever, you seemed anxious about him coming. It was almost like you wanted us to give you a reason to turn him down.”
“That’s not a question.”
Quinn laughs. His chin drops against his chest. He raises a finger. Letting him recover from laughing gives me time to reflect on his statement. He’s right. Callan’s call caught me off guard. I’d never expected to hear from him again, and then suddenly, he wanted to stay with me. For a week. I had wanted my housemates to say no because I was afraid of coming face to face with Callan again. I was convinced he hated me. But he doesn’t. At least, he’s told me he doesn’t.
Quinn jerks upright. “I’m getting to the question,” he says. “In the short time he’s been here, you’ve become much more relaxed.”
I stay silent, still waiting for the question.
“Are things better now?”
“They’re getting there. I think. I hope. We had a long chat and cleared the air.”
